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My ***** felt a feather heavier than iron As I’d opted for anything other than rollover Whilst puking up that, “nicer,” guy. The drink’s a ghost. The scold’s a mixer, Soured on the rocks, Shaken, not stirred, Stirred, not shaken, And without a sliver of, “he,” who’d opt Accommodate or acquiesce. Call it, “transcendence,” I guess? Born a realization that this world’s, “DOG-EAT-DOG,” or, “GOD-EAT-GOD,” or, “GOD-TEA-DOG,” And should I not comprehend This very simple reality, I’d be a doormat unto my own grave. So I fail, I’m frail, and all for one tail Prior the act that’d ever invoke, “Leave;” even atop the eve of beggary. Resolute? I’d opt for the longer life, perhaps, Not that I’d wanted to live to long anyway, But I’d made a choice, I’d arbitrated one cardinal direction – elliptical. I’d acted, placated, satiated, intimidated, Decimated, defecated, wiggled my right pinky And culminated a prayer atop altars, “godless,” To never knock upon that door again. And so, but one question remains, “Did I?”
0
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
Between (boys, girls and tables etched bourbon)
My ***** felt a feather heavier than iron As I’d opted for anything other than rollover Whilst puking up that, “nicer,” guy. The drink’s a ghost. The scold’s a mixer, Soured on the rocks, Shaken, not stirred, Stirred, not shaken, And without a sliver of, “he,” who’d opt Accommodate or acquiesce. Call it, “transcendence,” I guess? Born a realization that this world’s, “DOG-EAT-DOG,” or, “GOD-EAT-GOD,” or, “GOD-TEA-DOG,” And should I not comprehend This very simple reality, I’d be a doormat unto my own grave. So I fail, I’m frail, and all for one tail Prior the act that’d ever invoke, “Leave;” even atop the eve of beggary. Resolute? I’d opt for the longer life, perhaps, Not that I’d wanted to live to long anyway, But I’d made a choice, I’d arbitrated one cardinal direction – elliptical. I’d acted, placated, satiated, intimidated, Decimated, defecated, wiggled my right pinky And culminated a prayer atop altars, “godless,” To never knock upon that door again. And so, but one question remains, “Did I?”
Wrote this on a whim at "Peabody's" in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. She bet I couldn't, I bet I could.
liam-c-calhoun
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
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