Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Apples and Arrows Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Sunday 9/21/2008 01:02:00 AM

Unplugging the clock she made note of the hour. She would have to be back to it before long. She saddled up the angels and quickly took off. Heaven she knew was always tomorrow. Hell always yesterday. She had decided somewhere between would be the place.

Searching for the wolf she encountered the fox. A wisp of a killer. A cunning bit of prey. Just like this travel is. Both hide and seek. The world in downpours. Thunder. Gods choking on our arrogance. Their throne ours to take.

Crossing the river she found the hare. Anxious to race. Admitting it would win, she convinced it to show her where the race would end. The moment was prepared for my breach. The door was already open. As I walked into the empty room. And found the window broken.

Looking out. The world in cuts of skin. Scabs like liquor proliferate the man. In fits of ego he would surely die without.

The princess. Sleeping on her pea. All a dream. Pandora peering inside that box. Everything about to change, but now is all she can see.

Time travel isn't a machine. There is no on or off. We come to these intersections on broken shins. We crawl away from them in splints.

I have seen the future. Luckily it hasn't seen me.

William Tell with the arrow pointed at the head of his child. William Tell me how meaningful the apple is.


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