Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Penises Like Barometers Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Thursday 7/24/2008 12:51:00 AM

Pretty mini skirted futures. Chasing Fibonacci. Fawns in the grass. Zippers on the past. Biting down on when. I can add. It's in the subtraction where I fail.

Circles. The spiral in his pants. Add my before to his next. Every step forward is the sum of the falls that preceeded it. Taking it closer. The dandelion in the grass. Consulting with the worm. On where to invade next. The man. The anvil in his underwear. Gravity like any predator. Singles out the weakest.

Everyone eats a lot of shit. Some of us just swallow louder.

I was there. I was then. How. When. And if. I was all of the potential and none of the the ambition. I was everything they wanted and nothing that they could love. Child. Woman. Pussy. Irrelevant.

Just keep counting. It's only numbers. A series of sums. fingers multiplying loose skin. Touch determining gravity makes sense. Falling. Eyes like a coin tossed. Either side could win.

Arguing with the ceiling. Convinced that its calculations are wrong. Now that I know how to count how far away the world is.

It will rain again.


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