Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Grenades Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 3/30/2009 12:56:00 AM

The horse in its harness. Struggles against the soil. Heavy hooves churn the Earth. It runs on broken wind. It sprints during our weakest hours. Lofty belfry. Chiming harsh. With dead astronauts. Sent to extract missing gods.

I don't sleep. I just keep tying the knots. As he bends down. Looking for the words to say. How close. How far. The drastic. The drama. In tuxedos. As if heaven sends out invitations.

The wolf. Bastards prepare the moment. Soft blankets for hard amends. I worked out the reason. I determined the expanse. I found the island. Was found by it. And time didn't matter at all. We were alone in our speculation. We were hard in our wars. Small soldiers. With big guns. Shooting at distant targets.

She tried to tell us how beautiful it was. But the ugly was all we could imagine. As the colors broke. As skin remembered the little choices it had been forced to make.


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