Monday 1/08/2007 12:21:00 AM

Listening to the rain knifing through the air. Shallow cuts. Waiting on line. Conveyor belts carrying our lives to the register. Drowning in the levity of hating ourselves. And everyone who should. Hate themselves, but is too stupid to know it.

Impatient. Conversations with the weather. Stopping and starting with the slightest recession. The rain beating its drum on the outside of our houses. Where we remember the world having once been.

Welcome mats licking the dirt from lover's shoes. In doorways we don't own anymore. In yellow buttons on frail, frail mesh. Of the many lights out there that are still looking for the end of the darkness. In wet laughs that carry from house to house as nightmares are dispersed amongst friends. In hollow barks the rain falls. Smuggling the weather into our hearts.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.