Thursday 9/20/2007 12:04:00 AM

I watch the Simpsons. I drink. Negotiating with delirium. Or not caring. I don't know the difference. There are barrettes to sweetly hold the moments in place. Small caucuses of humiliation that form the foundation of happiness.

I stir the rice for too long. Adding ingredients arbitrarily. Watching movies it seems I've already seen under different names. Eating meals I'm certain I've previously consumed.

Searching for then. In loud songs with a soft way about them. That mutant gravity too sober in the corner of my heart as I try to start the next sentence. I used to be immune. But now the infection comes so easy. The spoil of potted plants with no room left to grow.

Oh, I say so many things. The pungent lies of creation. Ink. Ink everywhere. Trying to decide the words.

I watch whatever on. I don't listen. I tell them to stop. But I like it when they keep going.

The perjury of self-quotation flaunts its irony in doses of skin. An hourglass fumbling with the assumption of time. The measure and the relative distance from this end to the next beginning.

The best medicines don't even try to cure. They only perpetuate the disease. As sick as we are, at least we're something.

The dubious threat of truth ubiquitous and feeble. In synonyms of too much the same. I stretch my short arm out toward the bucket. Knowing the thirst goes deeper than the well.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.