Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Axises Stubborn with Malaise Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Sunday 2/07/2010 01:17:00 AM

The code comes in numbers and letters and flesh. Divisible by necessity. Operable by trust. Letters and numbers jumble toward a vagrant end. But there is no translation. Other than how it began.

Digging into the white. With tired arms and a heavy back. The ground a distant memory I'm struggling to regain. Just leave me in my blizzards. Let the white decide. How lost I am. How deep I must go to find my way out.

The puddles on her window puzzle after the commotion of melting icicles. The shovel scrapes the ground in echoes of porcupines and skunks.

The characters come together. In an array of decimals. Random snowflakes and heavy rain. Seek the door. Pretending there is a bottom.

The code deciphering her. In obvious patterns.

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