Too sad
for poetry.
Too far gone
to save.
Even the dogs
distance
themselves and
the cat just
howls
for a leveling
of his bowl.
I cannot paint,
and prose sounds
dumb, and the
stage it seems
is for those
much prettier than me.
I am lost
in selfish introspection.
I am too
sad to write
a poem.
Same blog: third name- I can't help myself. Same kind of stuff; a little poetry, a little prose, a little drunkalogue. Some adult themes, and language. Good Times.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
She's gone to Texas
Carrie brought
another round,
scolded Ethan
gently
and left.
Boots watched
as she made
her way
between tables
in her
friendly manner.
"I don't
get
you two"
"Simple"
Blue said
without
looking up,
"she likes
the way I talk
but hates
the things I say".
another round,
scolded Ethan
gently
and left.
Boots watched
as she made
her way
between tables
in her
friendly manner.
"I don't
get
you two"
"Simple"
Blue said
without
looking up,
"she likes
the way I talk
but hates
the things I say".
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