Tired, jaded

your pick-up lines need a pick-me-up

tequila,

lime,

salt,

shot,

through

the 

roof

of

your

drooping

mouth

as you sit, one

with the faded couch

drab, all color drained

out with repeated wash

cycles

curtains drawn,

lines drawn on your face

as you strain

in a dusty room, cardboard boxes

of Penthouse

dog-eared from years of thumbing

yellowed, stained

teeth, grinding

seeking release

pent up

all those Penthouse

years