Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Wilfred Brimley's Times Two Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 10/08/2007 01:09:00 AM

I was asking the bottle to imagine itself without me. It laughed and said I was wrong. Catch your sloppy joes in slotted spatulas. What do you expect. You want the hamburger, but not to kill the cow.

You're a silly girl who doesn't know what she wants until it doesn't want her. An omelet of unbroken eggs. Enjoying being ignored. Content enough just to watch things dying. You're a poorly drawn cartoon that's only funny if you don't want to laugh. Only pretty when you're masturbating to an angry song.

It couldn't be simpler. The physics of antipathy. Like yellow jackets too bored to sting. Drowning in allergic skin.

Too strong. To win. Too weak. To lose. They say my name, but it can't be real. They dress the child in dead light bulbs and wait patiently for the doorbell to ring.

Stealing the apples from the hands of Eve.

Diabetic moments spoil the heart into thinking it's aware of what it wants. Or can stand to have.

Something so sweet.

Brian said...

wow. I haven't been around in a while. This one is fairly amazing. The tone is just right, and the imagery veers on pathetic is just the right way.

alcholic poet said...

nice to know something lured you back again.

thanx for the compliment.

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