From a tree stump come the bonfire’s pit

Ryan Emmert

From a tree stump come the bonfire’s pit
to the white smoke trailin off her long cigarettes
from a helldrunk & fallin down an elevator shaft
come what it means to wakin at six in the mornin
sittin outside & Jeffrey’s passin in his mustang
I’m gon egg his car I think I really do think it
then sayin to myself not today no not today
he’s parkin in front of Vicente, engines blubberin
he gets out.

He’s lookin down the moment passin
I’m thinkin about eskimo brotherhood & the way
it rounds like counterclockwork, the way he’s been
hoverin past with all this tall slow & shady
all this not givin a fuck & seen a vein swell.
It’s all a ruse my friend! Andy said once to me
I laughed at that; laugh every time still
It’s all a ruse my friend! it’s all a ruse! Haha!
Jeffrey, the mustang, myself, the eskimos
blowin smoke in all opposite directions —
all a ruse.

I’m sittin in my dollar general lawn chair
kickin back all unpresumin thinkin must be the drugs
if not the fear of becomin nothin — if not maybe both
that keep me wakin at six in the mornin, every mornin
all here for me & figurin out, the time it’s been takin
Jeffrey turnin the corner & I’m drawin a blank
to his flip flops floppin away. I’m callin the Lord
clickin the heels of my boots together & prayin
There ain’t no room in Hell for them others like me
& I’m tired & hung & callin the Lord in my reelin
& prayin

There ain’t nothin I’d let slip way from me
just ain’t nothin ain’t nobody I seen, if I could have a way
cause there ain’t no room in Hell for them others like me.