Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Flowers Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 6/15/2009 01:50:00 AM

I remember this poison. Vengeful skeletons. Trying on our empty skins. The muscle romancing the bone. In fading equations. Stale mentors fumbling with their masks. Their eyes too big. To see. Through the tiny holes that we dig.

We can tame the robot, but not the machine. Insurgents with their guns around their throats. Spoil the seamstress in the midst of her gown.

What to wear now. The purple children. With their big teeth. And long handles. Reaching deep into the darkness. The blue boys. Suffer the girls. That they would protect. From all the gods they've come to hate. In this mania. Too simple. To ever understand.

I know this passage. This ambivalent oblivion. The clouds on their needles. As high as they can be. The storm relentless. More interested in how we break. Than when it might end.

I've labored through every dimension. Only to find out. The first one is all that matters.

0 comments:



Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.