Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Perditions in Altitude: Fawns Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Saturday 8/25/2007 12:18:00 AM

I listen to the rain in brutal reprises. I wear the footsteps that make up the mountain. They're always falling down. Like I am. The room pivots. About the axis in his exit. Plastic army men cup together to diffuse the bomb. That's yet to hit.

Sobered by the prospect.

Of remembering death.

The short sleeves of lovers. The tank tops of sex. Sewing buttons to the heads of broken zippers. The solvency of pants. Not withstanding. Lipstick's auger. I open my pants with a question mark. I let my legs part. Only to stall on your answer.

I'd have thought naked was solution enough to determine which sun to orbit. And we could fall from there. Planets depending on each other not to drift.. In the shrug of gravities overlooked. The chirp of worlds caving in. Space enough to disappear. Opportunities to be forgotten overlooked.

Galaxies exed out. In a concession of physics. Matter approving the science of surrender. What remains. Still puzzle enough. To prove. What I've always known.

The tall boots we put on to touch them go away when they do.

When the forest burns down. We build ontop of it. It never comes back.


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