"drunker" poems
To all the goodbyes
I say goodnight
To everyone that dies
I hope it's bright
To everyone;
With a razor
Hand of pills
Tied rope
Dangling keys
Extreme height below
Finger over a light trigger
Electricity at hand
Open propane tank
Empty plate, with full glass
Stop, think about who you're leaving behind
I know my words aren't going to stop you, but just read
Did you bother to write and leave a note?
Is it worth it then?
Saying you're sorry, knowing you'll leave someone behind?
Stop. Think about why you're doing it
Do you have nobody?
Think about your opportunities that'll fly past
The chance of ever meeting someone?
Did you lose someone?
Think about if you'll actually see them again?
Being bullied?
Fight back, with whatever you have
Life shoved you down?
No, I'm not asking you to get up!
I'm telling you to get your *** into a nap
Think about all the possibilities that might not be
Think of all the opportunities and people in the future
Think of your legacy
Think of anything except the pain
Now balance the pain and everything else
Want to jump? Skyfall
Want to shoot? Paintball and games
Want to hang? Bungee
Want to overdose? Take 10% of it and party
Suffocate in propane gas, or blow up? Cook a nice meal, invite a friend or family. Surround yourself. No friends and family? Find a friend, build a family.
Want to speed wrong side of the road? Speed on the right side of the road and get carried with the wind, do it over again
Want to cut yourself? Cut off the pain and wrong influences
Electrocute yourself? Rather save electricity and watch a good movie with friends or family. Have none? Watch a movie alone, play a game online. Make friends, build a family
Want to starve yourself so you can get drunker and finally forget it all, when your liver gives in? Eat a lot more, blow off some steam at the gym and build a body that girls/guys would like, attract them and make new friends. Drink with friends.
I've tried many things, some of them didn't work out, or I couldn't stay awake longer. Create new dreams if the old ones died. Work hard for them. Achieve something
"At least leave a ******* legacy behind" is what my bestfriend, Steph used to say
"You can get out of this alive, but maybe a little ****** up, but anything damaged can be repaired" My bestfriend Josh used to say
"Life can carry you away without what you thought you needed" my bestfriend Divene used to say
Even more quotes from people I've lost in my life, so I ask you just think about it all
Still going through with it? Remember it's a one way ticket
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 7:16 AM UTC
"I'm a mermaid," she said as she kissed me.
Ah! her kiss made me drunker than wine.
I'd been longing for the ocean in her blue eyes,
it was calling to the diver in mine.
She whispered, "I've got just a little bit of magic
from my home in this big blue lagoon--
join me tonight for a swim in the moonlight,
I'll make some magic for you."
The full moon was rising in Paradise
as I made my way down to the shore.
There I dove right into the water,
I just couldn't stand it anymore.
Here she comes, swimming up to meet me--
wraps her self around me like a glove.
As long as I live I never could tell
the magic of a mermaid in love.
Goddess of the crystal blue ocean,
sharing your mysteries with me.
When I'm with you I can breathe underwater
and swim beside you under the sea.
If I could stay here under the surface,
I would never go back to dry land!
Goddess of the crystal blue ocean,
Meet me here whenever you can.
The spell would be broken by sunrise,
but her "little bit of magic" was no lie.
We soared, freed by love, underwater,
free as two birds in the sky.
All too soon the sky began lightening,
the moon and the stars took their flight.
Our kisses were mingled with tears at the shoreline
where we promised to meet every night.
Goddess of the crystal blue ocean,
sharing your mysteries with me.
When I'm with you I can breathe underwater,
and swim beside you under the sea.
If I could stay here under the surface,
I would never go back to dry land!
Goddess of the crystal blue ocean,
make me a real merman.
Nov 11, 2010
Nov 11, 2010 at 7:13 PM UTC
My hometown
is a place
of rustic beauty
and simple people
a population
under 200
meant that
everybody knew everybody
farmer Neville
and his sheep
always on the loose
and the quiz night
at the pub
just another excuse
to get drunker and drunker
and the private boarding school
which I attended
so rich with false academia
we learned the lessons
which would prepare us
for the false prophets yet to come
and the public school
and their ***** uniforms
where I found my friends
friends who at this point
have arrest records
ranging from assault
to petty larceny
and criminally wasted potential
oh how I miss that town
even now,
because despite the racism
and xenophobia
which infest my kinsmen
I still have to believe
that things can get better
that life there
can match the beauty
of North Yorkshire farm lands
and woodlands
and friendly knowing smiles
My hometown isn't perfect
and I wouldn't have it
any other way
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 3:13 AM UTC
Anxiety has taught me that the large blue doors at the entrance to the next four years of my life are there to keep me in more than to keep others out
That the best way to keep the students with no future away from the students with one is to create advanced classes that will determine whether a college will allow you entrance without a doubt
Anxiety taught me what it's like to hold back tears
And how to freak the guy next to you out because he's never had to handle a girl crying and being dependent upon and not being able to provide is one of his greatest fears
Anxiety taught me that "it's not just one quiz it's the rest of your life!"
That you must work hard in school and get into college and get a good job and make money and these are the only ways to become someone's wife
That seeing your fears of not being good enough becoming true in the eyes of the only one you love and that it feels like your heart has been stabbed at by a knife
Or when you're sick and throwing up but you have a paper due in 3 hours and it's either sleep or finish the paragraph who's sentences will probably end up slurred
Anxiety taught me that time is not your friend
That it will not be there when the fate of the rest of your life is hanging on 10 more words to reach the 500 word limit
Anxiety has taught me that no matter how many assignments you complete you’ll never get rid of this weight on your chest
That you have to keep working until there's no more time to rest
That you can do problems 1-50 in your textbook and it'll teach you the material but not how to take a test
That no matter how many hours you study you will not perform your best
Anxiety taught me what it's like to put all of your eggs in one basket.
One human shaped basket that isn't always around and won't be awake at 2 in the morning because he has an 8 AM and needs his sleep
But when he doesn't have an assignment going to bed early is one of the many promises he cannot keep
Anxiety taught me what a social barrier is
A beer covered barrier that reminds you that all he's going to want to do this summer is drink because that's all he's done the last 8 months and you haven't been there
And that you don't like the taste of alcohol much and he knows that but he'll still hand you a shot out of nowhere
That you can feel yourself getting drunker and drunker and that terrifies you and he knows that but he no longer seems to care
Anxiety is more than being nervous before you ask someone to prom
anxiety is more than feeling helpless when your parents don't get along
Anxiety is being the hero and failing
Anxiety is being afraid of heights and knowing you'll have to fall every single day
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 12:14 AM UTC
Crush a bit, little bit, roll it up, take a hit
Feeling lit, feeling light, 2 AM, summer night
Hands on the wheel, uhh, **** that
Life for me is just **** and brews
See the hoes flock to you when your name is Q
Am I over-faded? Hell yeah it's true
Turn a beat on, ain't no limit to what I can do
See this Top Dawg in heat, but I'm a **** the world
I'mma be on tunes 'til God re-furls
You sat me down, I'm still tryna get higher
You looked at me stupid when I twisted the fire
Meanwhile my ***** drunk as ****
A ***** ****** up, we all ****** up
You done ****** up, I brought more blunts
Smoke back to up, you ****** know what's up
Too **** high, can't stand myself
I love drunk driving, man I'm something else
Heat on my side, you're more than welcome to melt
I'm 'bout to finish a pound, you're more welcome to help
**** and brews, **** and brews
Life for me is just **** and brews
I ****** her once, then I could **** her twice
Yeah, you heard me right, I might **** tonight
Wait hold up, back in this mothafuckin' ***** once again
It's the pretty ********** with a 40 ounce of brew
My ***** Q and we drunker than a *****
We gettin' millis ********** yeah, uh
***** **** and brews, unbelieveable
Got a freak or two, in my vehicle
Got the purple drink, got the yellow drink
Then we mix it up, call it Pikachu
With a little bit of crack, little bit of dope
Little bit of smoke, little coke
Little **** when they on them pills
Little bit of E, little bit of shrooms
Little bit of deuce, what it do, hand on the wheels
And I keep the illest, trillest ******* while I'm swaggin' it
Crush a bit, little bit, that's my pursuit of happiness
If I ****** her once, then I could **** her twice
If I ****** her twice, I might change her life
If I change her life she might hit my ****
We could have a some and we could round it off with three
Her, Mary, and me, I'll keep it strictly G
My philosophy upon living right
***** **** and brews, and head every night
Hope the ***** nice, cause I'mma fight the *****
Beat it down and **** I be clowning with
Black Hippy crew, how swag am I
Be the reason why, she wanna drown my ****
But I soon realized, she was super dry
No paper planes, the Vegas will fly
Don't act surprised, too much Loc inside
Let's get stupid high, to where I can't reply
Love smokin' dope, I won't compromise
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Thai China
buzzes
because
we
buzz.
It quiets
because
we
quiet.
I'm at the end of my stamina,
me and you,
we've had a few beers;
got to talking;
and BAM!!!:
WE"RE MOROSE.
The business crowd
goes crazy
for some Thai China.
The tempers
calm
over hot bowls of white rice
(costing $5)
that steam up into
hooked noses.
Our lips,
juicy by now,
are so numb
that
we gave up talking a minute a go.
And got into a ***** male mood.
We just stare at the girls,
the waitresses,
wanting to **** them
in our nasty dreams.
Wanting to stick
our *****
in EVERY HOLE,
but we just get drunker
and drunker
and stir over
our bowls of rice.
The business
of business
commences;
our suppressed urges
and office angers
dull
by the mouthful.
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
Absinthe, San Miguel
Learning Italian
How to eat,pray, love
She's into me
I know the signs.
I compliment her bracelet
"It's from Africa," she says
I pull her hair
She laughs
"Stupid American boy," she snaps
"Stupid Italian girl," I retort
My name for the night is Giovani
Now Vice. How fitting?
Delisioso
I'm getting drunker
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
It was the turning point of my youth.
The age I realized,
“If I dig far enough into my mind, I can eventually find gold.”
So I stood in the middle of the street of my hometown, stared into the sky and begged for answers.
(Answers I was too affected to search for in front of me)
It didn’t hear my questions, of course,
so I made up the answers myself and made those answers my religion.
I guess I wanted to feel responsible for my maker’s omnipotence.
Always feeling misunderstood, I ignored those who opposed me and opened my ears to those alike. I sang along and sang into a mic like I was atop a podium.
I felt special and entitled.
I wanted to be heard like the rest of them and die with my shrill cry echoing for all eternity until eternity died.
Now, I’m beginning to see my skin fold and my eyes inflame.
I look back on past thoughts and deride.
How embarrassing it is to have zero experience and claim to have lived like you’ve lived nine lives.
Since, I’ve thrown out many records along with my many bloated ideas
because my neck has become exhausted from holding my thick nose in the air.
And my religion keeps shrinking the drunker I get with loneliness
and now I finally have room to see who my maker has made: a faker.
All my idols are ********
Dressed as angels
All my idols are crooks
Dressed as victims
All my idols are artists
Dressed as… well… whoever they want you to see.
Almost as well dressed as me
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 9:49 AM UTC
Her breath tasted like an odd combination of
****
*****
orange juice
and menthols
Her stubble scratched at my chin
Her hands gripped my waist
(almost as hard as mine gripped hers)
She laughed at I got drunker
My back was bruised from the fence at the edge of the stage
where she pressed into me
where the mass of dancing bodies pressed into her from behind
I loved those bruises when morning came
And maybe there's something wrong with me
but the fact that she had two hickeys on her neck
both the size of my palm
both still purple
Only made me want to kiss her more
And maybe there's something wrong with me
but I knew how to move my body
How to rub our hips together
My body was an expert already
but my lips were so inexperienced
I drove home that night and I didn't think about you
How you'd turn your cheek when we tried to kiss
But you'd stick your hand down my pants with excitement
How I was always your ***** little secret,
But she held my hand in public
I didn't think about your combination of
Apple Cinnamon Lotion
Tea Tree Oil Shampoo
and Mango Burt's Bees Chapstick
I thought instead of how her cherry red lipstick
stained the end of my cigarette
And reminded me that I
Don't love you
Anymore.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 10:10 PM UTC
Everyone was getting drunker by the minute,
with the models beginning to fall all over themselves.
I spotted Leo DiCaprio,
ask him about his island in Belize.
“What are you going to do with your island man?”
“I don’t know bro.”,
Leo replied,
“Well you should let me run it.”,
I suggested,
Leo laughed with eyes as red as wild fire,
he tilted his head back,
his temple changing color,
from the combination of the club lights and the mushrooms I was on,
to my surprise he accepted my suggestion,
“Okay you can run it,
but what do you want to do with it?”...
from
The H Trilogy
Volume 1
7/7/16
∆
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
The dusk smells like the dank moldy parts of the basement, old and decrepit. The days are short, like lives of butterflies. Only stray cats roam the streets after dusk like men in trench coats looking for your children. This is where the buzz of sports games fights through voices like car accidents, wafting through the air with the liquor that fuels them. The mix of rotting seaweed flesh and burnt cheerios intoxicates the wharf, drunker then the teens in their parent’s basements. Anyone can tell you where every **** store and Tim Hortons lies, where bass and basket ***** echo in the roads of chicken wings and blizzards. ‘Beautiful River’ you are where the hearts are strong as bison and tongues sharper then sabers. Yet among the old eyesores you'll find the hope of a city. It screams through the rusty and cracked windows; negligence made mosaics. Based on a pride that runs deeper then it's waters, the strength of those who reside in this urban Crayola box crown and shine like the tips of the waves cascading past the falls.
and the streets breathed
as crows rose and took the sky
crying in anguish.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
light magenta vertical;
gaurdian of the margin.
light blue horizontal;
conveyer of the ledger.
the space
between -
white teeth gleam,
refracting
lunarlit scribbles
across one loose leaf,
fell by some god
awful idiot,
all for
you
to space
out
on.
i will be
written
down
yesteday
in elegant
recursive
flicks
of the
wrist -
a has-been
fate.
so, i am not supposed to be here.
not anymore, anyway.
i know that.
i am three-hole
punch drunker.
awkwarder.
but those potential
whatif's glyph bright
behind closed eyelids,
and
it
makes
me wonder
just a little longer.
indigo
cursor
blink.
blink. blink.
blink.
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
If a girl is drunker than
me
I believe
in taking her back
to
her crib.
I'm not some male feminist,
but she gotta be
on my level
in order to ****
Kiss her on the doorstep.
Tongue and all that good ****
Lead her back to her bed.
Lay her down.
And leave with a whole bunch
of not actualized *** in my *****
because
I got standards.
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 6:28 PM UTC
Young and old people sipping beer, with hands in pockets and heads nodding to the rock music, standing in a crescent around the stage.
Some 30 year-old guy in a cut-off is on stage playing a bright red guitar which is shining silver. He finishes his set.
I'm sitting here alone and nobody seems to mind. Actually a couple of people have smiled and said hello.
One of the drunker guys sitting at the bar yells "Encore" first and then the rest of the room starts echoing him. Encore. I even let out a few "Woos!"
This man probably trades his cutoff for a collar during his day job. But we liked listening to him. He take a long drink of his PBR.
Then, he starts playing his bright red guitar again. The rest of the room is cast in red lighting with blue-christmas tree lights dangling around the room.
The bar itself looks like we are on the inside of the hull of a ship.
Woody, damp, safe. Decorated by a collector of whisky bottles and olden times posters.
I'm in a booth and to my right is the act which just ended and to my left, books. "Can I buy you a book," I ask a beautiful woman at the bar motioning to the books with a smooth wink.
Just kidding, maybe next time. But as the act ends I see a drunken, happy, young man with a girl who looked like she was his girlfriend.
In his drunken courage he attempts to take her hand and bring her to the dance floor, now empty. He pulls a rare for college, Charlie Brown dancing, sort of moveset and she is laughing. It's still red blue and dim but she's probably blushing.
He keeps dancing by her till she stands up and dances near him, both of them laughing and enjoying and somehow dancing to the rock music that is playing.
He keeps motioning his finger for her to "come here" as he backs in the center of the dance floor, until eventually she follows.
For one song, the two dance by-themselves to this music, in the center of the dance floor and lights, bobbing in and out, and just jamming.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC
Tastes good, doesn't it?
The fire burns your throat
as you chug a shot down.
The taste ain't sweet,
but the feeling sure is.
The drunker you get,
the higher you float.
"Can life always feel this good?"
The answer's no,
but you refuse to accept it.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 11:10 PM UTC
The sound of clattering plates
as a voice in the kitchen yells
we gotta sailor walking in hot
and the waitresses walk around the place
always just beyond the breaking point
wearing voices which say
we hope you have a great night
the plates they clatter
as the men at the bar grow drunker
as the redskins lose yet another game
No sir,
we regret to inform you
that you can not take your beer home with you
in a kiddie sized to go cup
the plates clatter
as the bus boys and dish crew
bounce to Mexican hopping beats
bustling and jostling their way through the six tops
a cart full of leftovers and the crayon drawings of little kids
seven o’clock sees the dinner rush
come and go
and still that sound
the endless clattering of plates
as quitting time rolls around
and a hundred people throw a hundred exhausted punches
at the same juggernaut of a clock
as they always have and always will
outside fresh air smells chemical
and in the car
alone on the ride home save for the passing
of headlights: strangers navigating the same dark
you still think you can hear it
the clattering of plates
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Going out to the club
I know I'm going to have a good time
I just know it
I'm attractive
Muscular
In the best shape of my life
I have brown puppy dog eyes
And a face to compliment it
Yup off to the club
Cause I know I'm gonna hit that
Using what I learned
I'm all ready to get it at the club
Walk up to a girl say
"What up I got a big ****
She slapped me in the face
Not a smooth attempt
But I'll get it next time!
Moving on to the next girl
Her eyes look at me
Like a seductive tigress
Fierce
Predatory
Hot
Oh yeah this is happenin'
"Hey girl how you doin?"
"Doin' fine big boy! How 'bout yourself?"
"Doin' **** baby doll! You be lookin' hot!"
"You not lookin' so bad yourself big boy!"
**** straight! Care to dance?"
"Pssh! No one be dancing yet! No one be drunk yet!"
"Who needs to be drunk!?"
"Well I do. Why don't you buy me a drink big boy?"
"I don't drink and neither should you!"
And that's when she turned away uninterested
Ignoring me for the rest of the night
Who needs her
We don't need alcohol!
Turns out to have a good time
We need alcohol
Cause no one else acts clearly
But I can't drink!
Not out of religion!
Or the law!
Just can't not my thing
So far having a miserable time
I'm a sweaty mess
Not hitting any girls
It was fun when they were sober
Because now they lose their attitudes
All inhibitions are off
All are now the same personality
Now they begin to dance
Guys move behind them
***** rubbing ****
**** rubbing *****
Faster
Faster
Faster
***** pumping out
Flying everywhere
*** on guy
In the pant crotch area
The club smells like sweat and ***** and alcohol
The more good times they have
The drunker they get
The more they seem to drift off
What they gain in ****
I lose in fun
"I wanna **** you!"
"Excuse me?"
"I wanna **** you big boy!"
"Sorry I'm not in the mood."
"How big is that ****
I'm hard
Why am I hard?
**** I shouldn't be hard!
"Ooo you're big, I wanna ****
Everything I came here for
In front of me
But it's wrong!
She's wasted!
I can't do this!
Why didn't this happen earlier!
But I wanna ****
I should do it anyway!
"Give me an answer babe! Yes or no."
Spinning spinning I have to say it
"No.... I can't, you're drunk"
"Hell yeah I'm drunk! Take advantage of me!"
"Please don't. I honestly have no idea what I'm doing"
"I'm gonna go dance with someone else"
**** you man! You're ********
And ***** is now on my shirt
That is just great
Get home from club
Think about my chances of getting laid
Then realize that maybe that that isn't what I wanted in the first place
Maybe that lifestyle isn't me
Even if I wanted it to be
For just a night
Probably good that it isn't
Cause I'd **** at it
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
to the pretty girl with dreads whom i met stumbling down the strip last night around 1:30, i never asked your name.
you were drunker than i, which is an impressive feat. i followed you into a greasy dimly lit punk rock bar and we danced to 80's *** pop.
i remember i twirled you.
at last call you asked where i lived and then laughed when it wasn't within walking distance. you led me by the hand to your house.
descending the stairs into your basement room, you referred to yourself as a "cellar dweller" and we both laughed at that.
i met your dog and he liked me. you offered me a beer but took off your pants instead.
we had all kinds of anonymous *** for an hour and twenty three minutes and then i left without cuddling. you were already nearly asleep.
i left my wallet tangled in your sheets.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
Do you even know how hard it was for me?
To put away the liquor and pipes
For the love of Christ I can't even begin to tell you how awful it was before you.
I can't even begin to tell you how many nights I stumbled home.
How many mornings I woke up asking what happened the night before.
How many nights my roommate asked how ****** up I was as I laughed and told her how badly I wanted cookies.
Now I'm not saying **** ****** me up that bad
But I may have taken the things that numb me a little too far:
Drinking till I can't remember,
Smoking until my frowns are smiles,
Puffing on cigarettes until I cough up a lung.
What doesn't **** me makes me stronger, right?
I couldn't continue my preaching higher than cloud nine or drunker than a man with nothing left to lose.
But for some unknown reason you gave me the courage to quit the liquor.
And Im glad you stopped me, otherwise the next year was gonna be brutal because AA is for quitters and momma never raised a quitter.
I may not have alcohol.
I may not have Mary Jane
But I do have you.
So you wanna go smoke a joe?
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
I cry ***** the color of Christ-blood.
It stains these linen sheets
and gets me drunker than Uncle Jim at a Christmas party.
Lonely thoughts breed lonely feelings
and lonely feelings hurt.
They hurt in the same way you do, because they're made of the same stuff.
Mixed in the same kitchen;
the recipe is the same.
One part brandy to one part cola to seven part tears.
A little girl who believes in love is much better off than the one who does not.
Much in the same way as a child believing in Santa Claus.
Belief can only set you up for disappointment,
but the feelings at the time of belief run deeper than the feelings after revelation.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC
Daddy, please don't be a drunker anymore
Give us joy and happiness like before again
Show us that your love is still in your heart
Just after you made friendship with alcohols
Haughtiness afraid of passing our house by
Loneliness gets in our house like you gave it
Please look at our tears and make us smile
Take away our pains and make it a home
Where we can find our family's love again
Please change to before you were alcoholic
I beg you with the tear and pain from inside
Daddy, please stop drinking what made you bad
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC
sweet skin, sweet
taste September,
tomato-stained
pallet boiling to
an icecream froth,
eyes blue-moon
blue-cheese blue-
sea blue-teaful,
planets in arraign
of Pluto, far out
years before back
-hand kiss to back
-hand slap to my
metallic tears first
come first serve
arriving home drunker
than Charles Bukowski
on the average day, I
hope to be the barfly
of her heart.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
I have to wipe
the **** from
the toilet seat
before I sit down
to write this, and
outside the drunks
are drunker than I
remember.
They slur their nothingness
so that once again
I sense comfort
in an accidental,
quick death
away from it all.
There is no chance
of joining in again;
at the best of times
it is a test
of toleration.
This game is hate
filled envy
for the ignorant.
Their confidence,
quirkiness, complaints
and compliance
are the holes
in my weary armour...
For, the few occassions
when I am truly alone
I am god himself
staring down at the landscape
as if it were bare,
with a face consuming grin
as I write away
their worth
and, with it,
mine.
Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 3:30 AM UTC
Starkle, starkle, little *****
Who the hell are you I think.
I'm not under what you call
The alcofluence of incohol.
I'm just a little slort of sheep,
I'm not drunk like thinkle peep.
I don't know who is me yet,
But the drunker I stand here the longer I get.
So just give me one more fink to drill my cup,
'Cause I got all day sober to Sunday up.
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
there was a boy
who got all he ever wanted
one day,
all of a sudden,
out of
nowhere
and then he sat there
with his car
and his house
and his job
and his wife
and he thought:
now what?
and his wife told him
to have kids
and so they did
but when the kids
were born and
grown and
gone
he turned to his wife again
and said:
now what?
and his wife told him
to retire and move to florida
so he retired after
thirty-five years at his company
and moved to a shack
across the street from the beach
(because he couldn’t afford
a house on the beach)
and as he sat one night
looking out at the sun setting
he would turn, again,
to his wife and ask:
now what?
and she told him
to just enjoy all that he had
all that he had done
to look back on his life
and smile
and so he
did
but before bed that night
he turned to his wife
and asked her with all
earnest:
now what?
and she told him
to go to bed
because that’s all there
is to do right
now
and that stuck with him
it was all he could think about
he stayed up thinking about it
all night in fact
and when his wife woke up
she found him out on the front porch
sitting in a plastic chair
watching the sun
come up
she didn’t think anything of it
and didn’t say anything about it
but something had changed in him
something that took him three weeks
to figure out
because that is when
he turned to his wife
one last time
and asked:
now what?
and she told him to answer
his own **** question
for once
this shocked him
and made him angry
so he barked back
that she’d always
had an answer before
where were they now?
where were all those things
to be doing now?
she didn’t know
and his yelling brought tears
to her eyes so he left the house
and she sat their crying
for a bit until
she could pick herself up
and go work on her knitting
until he returned
the boy drove through the sea-side town at twilight
and he could look into the bars and see
dozens of young people drunker than sailors
singing songs completely off key
and genially enjoying whatever
they were doing right then
the boy then drove to the pier
and parked his car *******
across three spots
and got out and walked
across the rickety planks
to the end of that bridge
to nowhere
there he looked out towards the darkened sea
and he could see nothing
not a ship
or a lighthouse
not a buoy
or a feature in the
sky
and there he stayed until the dawn
enveloped him and other souls
began to inhabit the pier
he returned to his car
pulled it out from across three parking spots
drove it out of the parking lot
away from the town
and out towards his shack
across from the ocean
once home
his wife came to him
saying she was worried sick
saying she could barely sleep
saying where were you?
oh god, where were
you?
nowhere
he said
I was nowhere
and for the first time
I finally felt like there wasn’t anywhere else
to go
what do you mean by that?
his wife questioned
I don’t know
he responded
I really don’t
know
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 4:03 AM UTC