Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: The Future a Cup of Tea Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Saturday 5/31/2008 11:41:00 PM

shedding skin. layers of epidermus rationalizing the absence of skeleton. The rain so loud. As I converse with the walk. Through the dark. The crawl learning. How far it is. To knowing. Or not needing to anymore.

angels on the backs of men. saving us?

the mattress in the middle of the room demanding an explanation. as her hymen wept. red tears. do anything. i don't care what. just don't do nothing.

arranging the scabs. infections blossoming. through the soil. casual cures with faces made of men. bent daggers under her fingernails. searching for explanations. whom to want. Amongst the thunder. Long summer nights grieving loudly at the base of heaven. Gods slightly shy of saving the dead.

The funerals. Long. The euglogies. Short. The flesh adamant. To tell the story of the snake. The poison apple in us all. The beginning. And the end.

The future a cup of tea. Sweetened with when. The lemon was still sour. The future. In selfish incremements. Of skin not avoding what is to come. so sure. so confident. there is no tomorrow.

2 comments:
Maria said...

Ecelente. This atmosphere you
have created is dank and simmering,
like something wanting.

alcholic poet said...

thanx.




Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.