Monday 12/18/2017 12:26:00 AM

the window was open. though the wind did not come inside. the apogee of bone to blood. a deceptive orbit.

voices collapsing. like folding paper. icicles melting on the edge of zero.

we tried it on, but the suicide was too small.

steps to when. the pace of fractions. louder than it used to be.

the stones at our feet. in the simmer of darkness.
betrayed by our bodies. the stern biology of reason. weakened by a  rupture of choices.

the beginning is constant. everything else is clay. time stumbles. barefoot. over life's broken glass.we ignore the blood.

borrowing each hour. spending each other. the savage economics of flesh.  makes us all paupers.

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