Gentle Comedies for Old People

By Colin Keating

᠅

I got drunk and didn’t do anything

I was supposed to do. Sat down

on the piss-soaked concrete.

Ate soup off the floor.

That’s where most of us are,

in need of relief from the machinery

of being a body. It’s not humbling

if you’ve been humbled before,

and more, there is freedom

in it: the lit bridge swerving

off the river, the security guard

laughing medic. Pray to whatever

gods you wish, but you’ll have to take it:

the feeling first, and then the rain.

᠅

Colin Keating is a writer, musician, and artist from Portland, OR. He is the author of the poetry collections Smoking at Disneyland, Dog Tao, and several collaborative chapbooks. His Fugazi-based sonnet cycle, Red Medicine, was also featured as part of Portland Poetry Press Week’s Summer 2016 showcase. He appreciates small, well-crafted things (like poems) that rearrange the furniture in your head. He also loves loud music, porch hangs, and Francis Bacon’s paintings. You can find more of him and his writing on Instagram @francisbaconbits.