Revenge

She used to say that peach schnapps tasted real
good when licked off the skin. But looking down
on the fragmented remains of his holed-up
body where the slugs pushed his neck and now-gone
forehead out of life's way, a pool of booze,
hell, just about anything wet and touching
his skin - besides blood - leaves me unenthused.
Weird, that thoughts of lust and liquor flood my
mind while trudging around, looking at dead things.
Some say a conscience rots away, but me, I never
saw much point in something beyond naked
sweating and a shot glass. Still, he's dead and
I can't help but remember that she's licked something
like this and my jealousy makes me sick.

          A.T. FISH