Friday 5/26/2006 11:19:00 PM

Temporarily her. For the hour? As it implores the flesh to unbutton itself. Stern air frowns upon the wrinkles that mark these movements. Temporarily. Her. For the night? The entirety of execution from light to dark. Alive to dead. Still enough to examine sleeping beauties and croaking princes.

No fairy tale is complete without a damsel distressed.

Once upon a time. Once upon an absent dress. A child became a poet.

All the words would listen keenly as her fingers sung for them. So even alone she would know a friend. So even when everything else was over she could begin again. Or at least keep them after they were gone. Awkward totems on swaying poles. With their strange smiles looking down on her from under thickening clouds.

No fairy tale is complete without a villain.

Once upon a time. Once upon a silly dream she awoke compelled to live once more. Only to fail again. Strutted off into the world with only the ink trapped under her skin to clothe her. Once upon an open beer. A poet became an addict.

She took a few lovers, but was never taken.

Once upon a pushed up mini skirt on a couch made of itch. She swallowed him with her thighs and remembered how it felt to be alone.

No fairy tale is finished without a happy ending. This is mine.


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2018. All Rights Reserved.