Sunday 10/05/2008 01:06:00 AM

I was in the sky. Arguing with the alien. The alien. Too mundane to love. I was staring at the wall where I used to plug in the phone. Remembering how it sounded. Confirming I had muted it.

She always carried her eyeballs in her hands. nickels and dimes. Paying the bus driver in milton's and dante's. Saving her shakepeare's for a longer trip.

Going as she was always far from here. In cold beers. Long conversations with men. Tentative Judas on his choice of rope.

The atom failing to predict. The course of its electrons. The smallest things. Asserting their dominance.

In the frailest regions of men.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2021. All Rights Reserved.