Mar 2013
I needa write another poem tonight.
Here it goes.
I'm drunk in my veins.
My stomachs in pain.
My poems alone.
My body’s a tomb.
For every beer i drink.
Trying to count sleep.
Minutes at a time.
**** this poems rhyme.
End it here.
**** me.
Carbon molecules are a ****** up species of atomic number mass, that should not critical in this place called "Baton Rouge", either its rough type and ****-***-mild-temper, need them, hate me, near the river so that i can end my ******* life, with a last drink tipped, into my gizzard.
All the frats are belong to us
Tonight was a good night could I only remember.
**** Bukowski.
I'll **** his ****.
This is all he writes about.
Here it goes.
I'm drunk in my veins.
My stomachs in pain.
My poems alone.
My body’s a tomb.
For every beer i drink.
Trying to count sleep.
Minutes at a time.
**** this poems rhyme.
End it here.
**** me.
Carbon molecules are a ****** up species of atomic number mass, that should not critical in this place called "Baton Rouge", either its rough type and ****-***-mild-temper, need them, hate me, near the river so that i can end my ******* life, with a last drink tipped, into my gizzard.
All the frats are belong to us
Tonight was a good night could I only remember.
**** Bukowski.
I'll **** his ****.
This is all he writes about.
Me trying to do a bukowski poem, in the style of him being critical of himself such as in his poem "He's a Dog". Of course with my style intermingled as seen in the word *****.
