His Sweetness

now i know who in this office
is sweet
it is him
it is him that we suspect
his urine
it is his urine which the ants
have feasted

it is him who is sick
it is him who does not admit it

he has no reason to live
the wine takes him
the cigarettes choke him
the nights bury him with its
loud music

this early morning he lies drunk
on the sidewalk
his mouth still with froth
his eyes still tightly closed
his stomach now again
protesting....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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