Happy New Year! , 2015 ed.

I wake to a dog barking, but I swear
it’s little gasps of breath from a woman
mid coitus. The sound gets shaped;
my tilt out of the dream world and into

reality brings about some senses: a headache,
some unsightly sights, like the hole in my sheets.

Right by my head is a bass neck. “fuck this,”

and I roll out of bed and into a bathing suit,
some tennis shoes, and an old gray hoodie,
and I run.

Who did I text last night? What did that white
German Shepherd dream about? Was there a third thing?

New years have started hungrier and meaner,
but there is a soft apathy in this one that makes me want
to vomit.
You know I’ll spend the day keeping it down, swallowing.

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