A.j. Binash

Rookie - 44 Points (04-20-1988 / Dodgeville WI)

A Martyr For Privilege - Poem by A.j. Binash

I have been kissing shotgun shells
With the same ambition
A whore uses,
For prayer
Each night.

If not for my gag-reflex
The barrel
Would’ve been down my throat
Weeks ago.

Poor Western Boy.
What use is courage?
When it’s wasted on
Creating pin-pricks
Into flesh.

Tap water
Measured for pleasure.
When some walk 10 miles
To get a taste of filtered sewage.

My life insurance
Will be the bottle of whiskey
Found in my frozen fingers.
As I lay stiff
Under the overpass.

I’ll hold
Neal Cassady’s hand,
As the train clacks
Down the rail line.

We’ll still be searching
For those kicks.

Comments about A Martyr For Privilege by A.j. Binash

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Sunday, December 29, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, December 30, 2013

[Hata Bildir]