d.w. bayliss
my dissolution
down at the ragged end
of a summer of discontent –
empty bottles of clear glass
with painted labels –
Sol, Pacifico,
Corona –
Cervezas Importadas,
stacked
haphazard –
a desiccated lime, like
tequila's worm,
at the bottom of each.
summer's fevered sun hangs
swollen in the squalid sky,
sends waves upon sheets
of sweltered humid heat;
summer's gauntlet has been thrown
and i've accepted.
i maintain my junkie's figure
and form
on a steady diet of drinks
with tiny umbrellas
and salted rims.
it is both a marathon
and a sprint – self-abuse as sport;
there is no stop.
the sweat pours out of me.
having chosen against myself
at every turn,
senseless beyond reason
i burn – the sun my radiant,
my ash, my urn.
About David Bayliss
David Bayliss is a poet and musician who resides in South Minneapolis. He is the host and curator of several regular monthly poetry series throughout Minneapolis, including Poets & Pints and First Mondays at the Troubadour. He works exclusively in the medium of poetry as he has a very short attention span, even for his own work. In his free time he likes to discover new ways in which to make his guitar sound like barking animals.