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Mark Borczon

Hunting Dinosaurs With A Needle In My Arm

I smoke roses to get high
And I get drunk on sun tea in the morning
I fix my arm tattoos with sharpie markers
And I collect artwork depicting bull fights
My joints ache as a side effect from
Medication for hypertension
My muscles ache as a side effect from
Back breaking, physical toil
I am fifty one years old
And I make twenty seven thousand
Dollars a year

I don’t believe in heaven
I do believe in vodka
I did quite well in college
But I struggle in life
I never, ever confuse
One with the other
I know that youth is privileged
And forgiving
I know that middle age
Is not

I no longer sleep on my mother’s couch
If you do I kindly invite you
To go fuck yourself
Time and endurance earn the right
To judge and so
I judge

If life is pass/ fail
Then everything leans on
Who reads the work
The bankers and the preachers
Grade the test
One way
The poets and the dreamers
Grade the test
Another way

I hunt dinosaurs with a needle
In my arm
And I sit with holocaust survivors
On the city bus
I drink rain water from a wooden
Barrel that held the body
Of a four year old girl
Killed by the Klan

Someday I’m gonna burn my work boots


Mark S. Borczon is a poet and caregiver from Erie, Pa. He will publish his first book of poetry in over twenty years through Nixes Mate press later this year or early next. He is the father of three awesome daughters who teach him love on a daily basis. In his free time he is a talented banjo player and a guitar player who knows how to find all the notes. He is terrified of the internet so this biography is written by his identical twin who loves him and admires his work as only a brother can.

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