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samuel nathan Aug 2011
it was a finer day in hell
not my fault this
is where i fell
probably the smell
they sure do gossip well
which is my cue to split
to post bail
to jump fence of this judgment jail
to set sail upon the high seas
of alcoholism
so the morning after
my head rings like a bell
with stories and stories
to tell
to swell with exaggeration
might add some lies as well
just to have the stories
and stories sell
samuel nathan Aug 2011
there are hundreds of people
in my house
i only know one of them
leave it to one to invite ninety nine
friends of his
now invading my space my shell
i want them out
but
i have no means to be
rid of them
drinking my beer
eating my food
taking up my space
i believe
this situation vividly defines
invasion
awkwardness
all talking squawking at once
it is the sound of burning
sporadic popping crackling
amplified until a single person
me
is unable to think function
i can only feel  
i feel helpless
i feel loathing
i feel confusion
i feel disoriented i feel lost
in my own ******* space
i feel lost
they must go all of them
they all must go
i hide outside
smoke a cigarette
yet cannot hide forever
i can only smoke
for so long
i will wait
and cough blood
through my teeth
smiling wide
red white
as they leave
samuel nathan Aug 2011
maybe thats why
this is not working
saying to you that i love you
feels like swearing
aloud in a church
saying to you that i care
feels like stepping
on a snake
saying to you that i agree
feels like admitting
****** in the first degree
its uncomfortable
our connection
like cancer this love
is infectious
grabbing hold never letting go
for better
for much worse
the curse: no coin in my purse
it puts longing and loathing
in this verse
but it could be worse
i could be driving your hearse
samuel nathan Aug 2011
lay the cards down
on the table
on the table?
empty glass
an empty glass where the was once full one
one dollar and nineteen cents
the back pack that is never
on my back
carries importance, weight
figuratively
wires like snakes
curled up neatly resting, waiting
to bring life to what owns them
a coupon for half off
half price
half the price cast off
like cast of healed, able
and unable to leave the table
glasses heavy tinted
reflecting me or what i see
if on of off
a thermos with the lid off
inside treasure rests
a coaster protector of dark rings
in vain
the tabletop is a kaleidoscope
of ignorance or neglect
therefore
my beer is no more coastered
spit shine ****
it is still ****
there is a full glass now
where the empty one was or was not
see it how you wish
samuel nathan Aug 2011
back in an old
familiar place
familiar burn running
down the back of my throat
a cool hot breath of air
in this back alley
a different place
then before same store
drunks druggies degenerates
wasting away with thoughts
and wine in hand
dancing in delight
at sight of
this recognized respite
where they can park their bikes
i think i might
dance with them
to that familiar rhythm
in opposition of
this sad sanguine ***** den
i think i might
sing along
the same song of sin
samuel nathan Aug 2011
what i saw
kid in shades chasing family
runs into the street
what i also see
big bad black beauty
barreling towards them
the screams of come back
flailing arms and widened eyes
they see what i see
the kid does not
tires screech on pavement
the hard thud
the second softer thud
of dead weight
silence brief endless
the stopped reaper
sprayed red
now hysterical screams
all eyes on driver
i see them see him
thinking ****** for ******
i would help but
whats to be done with
damage done
let sadness settle itself
in the street
as the cracked sunglasses
settled on the sidewalk
samuel nathan Aug 2011
uprooting
taking a booting
taken up outer
up ou'chere
going over yonder
pandering and panicking for
places to sit and ponder
to launder thoughts
to squander whats bought

im not enjoying this
im back where i started
what i WANTED was to get away from this place
what i GOT was this place
and its different
smaller
you get what you pay for

i pay for nothing because
i cannot afford anything
some might call it bitterness
it is called fact. fact
some might say it is a gesture
of love to take me
into loving arms
arms so mothering
smothering

not me
not for me
not best for me
i want out and i get
deeper in
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