Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Too Many People. Most of Them Useless. Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 5/26/2008 12:10:00 AM

Lateral evolutions weaken the ape. Try on these triangles. whispered the alien from its hover copter. Discard your books. And your nimble thumbs. Concentrate on skin. That's the most you can hope to understand at this early stage.

Slaughter the cows. Steal the fish from the sea. Consume it all. Accelerate your starvation.

I was laughing because it was quite humours. The prospect of dying because we'd never estimated our future. The hours so proper. The minutes so slutty. Progress in doses. Easy to swallow. Harder to digest. As tomorrow approaches.

The luxury of life becoming a burden.

For all but the richest among us. This is what America wanted all along. But what no one expected. This is the legacy of capitalism. The apathy of the everyman.

For which all our children will suffer.

This is the car we drive. The condom we don't wear. Because we don't ever think about the end. Even when it's this close.

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