Thursday 3/08/2012 12:24:00 AM

levels. cycles. broken dogs slip out of their leashes. to chase the nothing that teases them.

time is a window. and they stare in at me through its fractured glass. blind monsters. search for their eyes. in the graveyards of the deaf. find only prisoners. content with their cells. madmen. chasing the path of dry river beds.

condemned. saturn solves. jupiter questions. the earth merely catalyst. for a lifetimes of questions.

wearing the numbers. debating the flesh. a treaty of poisons negotiates her decisions. she's a child. she's a woman. she's a eulogy in pencil. humbled by the finality of death.

she alseep. eyes open. she's dreaming. awake. she's knotted rope. letting them climb her. too close to the ceiling to know what progress they're making.

turning right. going left. the scattered topography of addicts and poets. content in her prison. familiar with its walls. the illusion of freedom obvious. the jaws of the crocodile open. light bulbs burning in the dark. selfish words confessing. how hungry the atoms are. to react. harness the epiphany of the quantum.

her pencil blunted. her paper dark. this lie constantly telling choking on the truth.

her straw house. defeated by the wolf. a weak metaphor. for the distance that spoils her rage. little lies. change so much.

the small lies. exempt from the flow of time. peddle their songs. to the dead.

undone by choices.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.