Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Subatomic Mechanics Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Wednesday 10/08/2008 12:49:00 AM

When I refer to lovers I generalize. The conditions of liquid and solid. The stimuli that alter them. The microscopic mechanics that drive the largest of engines.

What is the fuel? I often ask myself. Certain it is flesh. The mind is lazy. The heart is chaotic. The skin. The skin is constant. The pleasure is always there to be had.

I say equation when theory is more appropriate. Telling short stories in long division. I do it backward. Because it's faster. I don't care that it's less accurate. I keep rounding until the numbers make sense. I keep counting. As if infinity has an end. Everything is upside down. I keep the remainders in my head. I'll put them back eventually.

I add by subtracting the base from the mass. Condensing every problem into a card trick. There is no close. Just close enough. For the anxious atoms that let us feel each other.

Fusion yes. In some futile explosion. That my many microscopes failed to predict.


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