sledgehammer fingers

there is something arousing about observing people
from a safe distance
there are bubbles bursting in my guts
as i observe her
she is writing aggressively.

this is in a bar
one of those dark places
where people go to avoid each other
the beer-glass always have traces of lipstick and fingerprints
this is our way of socializing
we communicate with stains and uncleanliness.

her fingers grow into the shape of small sledgehammers, pouncing
bashing the plastic keys of her laptop
hateful words for sure
i imagine it being a break-up letter
or a fuck-you-note to her manager.

in this moment of inspiration
i lock myself in the bathroom
to jerk off, and
write threatening words on the clean walls
these lines will brew inside the stall
like a dirty bomb
ready to ruin your day

when i'm done
she is gone, and
so is my beer
i tip the fat bastard behind the bar five cents
and complain about the rude message in the mens-room
this is my way of saying fuck you
it's hard to always take your frustration out on the wrong person.

heading home
knowing that i never did partake much in life
i curse myself and everyone
but i intend to enjoy the delicate details of death
when the time comes.