poem 31 – 3-26-15 – I SHARED MY LAST DRINK WITH SARAH PRATER

SARAH click on image for weekly poems posted every sunday poem 31– 3-26-15 I SHARED MY LAST DRINK WITH SARAH PRATER

it stung

like the thought

life is gonna be like this

forever

i will always drag my feet

nostalgia’s white lie

i will always play dumb

i will never drive an automobile

bored of ourselves

ordinary madness

i descended into the couch

a dying city in a mind

gran legacy

waited

at the bottom shelf

i counted the times

i gave up

fear of the unknown

will never let us go

poem 30 – 3-16-15 – YEAR OF THE WHOPPER

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poem 30– 3-16-15

YEAR OF THE WHOPPER

I.

yea i’m sober

but that might mean

different things to different people

please remind yourself that

let me start off by saying…

that it doesn’t mean

it isn’t tacky

for you to ask me

these three questions

why?

how?

forever?

chances are

i drank more than you’ll ever drink in your lifetime

so for me to talk to you about drinking

makes no sense

you haven’t earned my words on the subject.

II.

“you ain’t a punk, you punk”

-Lux

III.

my last book of poems was dedicated to Jenny

my girlfriend that drank herself to death

and Piss Drunx

read it like a novel and don’t ask me stupid questions

poem 28 – 2-27-15 – WHAT ARE YOU SORRY ABOUT?

3

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poem 28 – 2-27-15

WHAT ARE YOU SORRY ABOUT?

i walk cuz i don’t have a car

i don’t have a car cuz i can’t afford one

i can’t afford one cuz i don’t try to

i don’t try to cuz i’m lazy

i’m lazy cuz i care enough that you care, but not enough to do anything about it

i’m depressed and so are you

you’re just better at life than me

aren’t you?

(i’ll either read that last line twice

or

have a few moments of silence

cuz silence is golden

isn’t it?

silence is dissonance

and dissonance is so desperate to live)

the universe aka GOD is not what you or i believe it to be

us fighting over it is pretty funny

i don’t know why we aren’t laughing

it’s laughable

it really is

i question if others are better at life than me

enough to fool myself with my own rhetoric

i once wrote a lyric “sophistry killed me”

isn’t that something?

(it was a shitty song-i was never a musician)

i bet that happens a lot… death by lies.

death caused by a lie or whatever

i wonder if anyone died cuz a lie i have told

who knows?

maybe

truth be told

a joke

a trick

a waste of time

an infinite jest

a man boy

a sign of disrespect

a complicated yet simple truth

a dramatic dogmatic sky wept

a drunken man slept

a sober asshole wrote a fucking shit novel and everyone loved it

a guy that knew a guy

a drug dealer that cared about you and wanted you as a friend but instead you gave them money and left

a dismal endnote

a sentence that ran long distance

a person dying lying

a lazy liar lied with with his last breath

he said nothing profound at his end

a stripper naked knew herself better than you fully clothed and covered in regret you lugged around your suitcase of disappointment

the optimal was ignored over and over

you owe something to something

end it with no resolution

end it with a question again

end it with

what if?

poem 26 – 2-15-15 – WHEN I WAS 25 I DIED

25

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poem 26 – 2-15-15

WHEN I WAS 25 I DIED

the plump man with the sun-dried tomato face

lurched his way towards the back of the bus

he clasped his 211 steel reserve tall can

and sat across from me

i was engrossed

he radiated realism

he didn’t conceal his alcohol like i used to

there was no brown bag of dismal

his soul case was worn out

it looked like it had gone to war

daily bread was his constant battle

our eyes met

mine were curious and his were warm

the man said, “hello, how are you? how’s your day going?”

with a smile

“good…i’m okay,” i said

“how are you?” i asked

“my body is tired but my mind is young”

with two fingers pressed on his temple

“i’m old,” he added

now that introductions were given

the plump man did not waste time

and went on to tell me about when

his motorbike collided with an automobile

“i woke up to ambulances and a heliocopter!”

he said this in a tone that rang with a tinge of appreciation

“they had to…” he said

as he motioned

defibrillation

he was spewing saliva everywhere

he had excitement

an elation with life

i wish i had

could not be contained

he said, “there was light, i tried to walk into it

but it didn’t let me in, it wasn’t my time yet.”

“i was 25.

i was dead.”

he paused to catch his breath

“when i was 25 i died”

i pulled the cord

perfect timing

i thought

it was my stop

i said my goodbye