Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Pharmacies in the Skin Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 5/21/2007 11:29:00 PM

Every second of our lives we're travelling time. Tunneling into the future.Moles blindly chewing through the earth before of them. Choking on the past. In sips of Alzheimer's that taste like sex and smell like love. In loud bottles that can't be resealed once they're opened.

Drink up.

Drink down.

The middle is no place for anyone.

Every face a prescription. For a different future. Skin in doses. The crisp cackle of reality. As loud as falling plates. As soft as falling leaves.

Each thrust a treatment. For a better past. Skin in doses. The future an epidemic. The past in quarantine.

Every person.

The cure.

And the disease.

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