today is tomorrow as well...

one day
at three or four in
the afternoon
grudgingly admitting
to consciousness,
i realize that
it’s just a flaccid substitute.

Later, after misplacing the thought,
i won’t be able to recall
what it is i decided
i am replacing;
is it the tenth drink, a pill, a snort,
a good woman, a fucking whore,
an assorted bag
of candy in which
i like every single one,
a song to dance to,
a song to sit through,
talking with a mind
and a love,

or is
all that
for want
of
this?