An Age of Men

By Emily Brown

They who float about the day seamlessly

lazing down a river where their comatose

minds cook the vegetables within their

Ralph Lauren cotton polo t-shirts and their

grinning eyes water as they take another hit

from the cheap shit they bought two months ago.

Hoot and holler, romp and round they fling their

dicks against each other in the twilight.

Grunting and heaving the table is set as

chalices are ceremoniously placed upon its top

in a pyramid at either end they

stand and chug the gauntlet through

their already corpulent masses, high-fives all around

my boys daddy’s home to buy away your troubles

as you pile up SUV after SUV for some acronym

of a reason. You have a mental disorder that

inhibits your abilities so pill after pill is prescribed

and you sell pill after pill to some ignorant

sufferer of false dreams and reality.

The night is old, but Dawn is young

and waits to be fucked in eight different ways.