Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Changing Methods Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Thursday 5/07/2009 11:58:00 PM

I was remembering. Not very well. Acerbic variables in the industrial of flesh. Dark windows. Against a generic world. The dogged constants. Withering of doubt. Their faces. Complicated equations. For a lifetime of solving. Each number into the next.

Patterns evolve the riddle. Coax the king. Out form behind his castle. To be captured.

I was remembering. Or at least I thought I had been. The devils I'd named after them. The gods I'd tricked. Into believing in us. Fractions. Maybe less. Of dying stars and cold dresses. As they ride up her thighs. Eager mustangs finally free of the spurs.

The earnest pinch of dead things. As they testify to life.

It's all too much to remember. When the future is this close.


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