Soul-Mate by Justin Hyde

steve tells me
he finally got
internet
been looking at
big titties
all day long
but what he really wants
is a soul-mate.

i tell him
he should
put a profile
on one of those
dating sites.

tried i
tried but
you need email
ain't got
no clue
how the hell
you get email,
he says
banging his left hand
on the bar

it's cramped up
into a
claw again

something about
lead poisoning
he got
twenty years ago
in a
sardine factory.

i get a pen
from the bartender
write
yahoo.com on it.

it's simple
free,
i tell him.

now i'm
cooking with
gasoline,
he says
leaving me
a handful of drink tickets
from
video poker.

it never ends

this lifetime
spent

filling
a hole.