kevin coons

Alone in Lisbon

No shadows in the corner of the room
Caught something on the plane, I sleep until two
Coughing with a head of rocks
something spills out—
what filled my dreams before anxiety?

Too late to go to Sintra
I walk alone for fourteen blocks,
wolf-toothed hangover howling
Soon the moon, with the horizon in its jaws,
tells me it was a wasted day 

I imagine a new earthquake,
three days of my thirty-two years
I want to go home and play videogames
with my long-lost little brother
And shoulders touching, fall asleep