Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Candyland Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Thursday 3/26/2009 01:07:00 AM

Boasting a jar full of fingers. She neglected the lid. Preservation is faulted by the thoughtless math of useless limbs.

There is no hosiery in heaven. Just open legs. That don't know what rape is. There are no condoms in hell. Just this one cancer we all share. She had the egg shells in her hand. Frail worlds broken into the bowl. She had the pan on the stove top. And the flame set to high.

Tiny medicines treat gigantic diseases. People fiddling with their groins. Faulty time machines. That constantly send us back to each other. Though it's the last place we belong.

When is it? Always. Where is it? Here. How? Because we are molting these skins again. And these new ones always fit too tight.

Stretch it out. Take it off. Do whatever it is you do that makeS the world spin faster and the clock tick so loud.

Measure the volume with numbers. Prove it with anything else.

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