the sticky frost of freezer vodka
defines the regret of dry unusable lips
they belong to the anonymous mass of the liars
consumers of what's brought to market by pimps

what's a good man to do
but to indulge
when it's a droplet in the waterfall
of a declining morality surge

until nothing
of commonplace honor remains
and us sick folk begin
another decades-long restitching of shredded veins