The Play
It’s the same old story.
You meet her somewhere
At a bar, club or cafeteria
Never at the supermarket though
Drinking must be involved
You exchange some mediocre
Witticisms- you are better than that
( you’d like to believe)
But no one is worth the extra effort
Especially these MTV-ridden girls
Who think rappers are poets
And the summer is the only season
Worth living for-
But you know
They have a fine ass
And you rarely think with your
Top head when drunk
But this lousy thing occurs
You get to know this girl
Or that girl or the one after that
And you suddenly realize
They are human beings instead
Of utensils of pleasure
And I am not saying that it happens often
But sometimes the hook goes deep
Into the gut
And you are close to being in love
Dangerously close
Which is arduous enough
On its own
But then something goes wrong
As always
Most often your own fault
For being so absolute
Because you love some people
But hate most of them
And it always leads to
A damnatory attitude
And people don’t like
Having their mistakes pointed out
Yourself included
And it ends up the same way.
You sitting at a table at the far
End of the bar-
Cloaked in loneliness
Behind a wall of empty beer bottles and glasses
The waitress is too bored to take.
But what can you do.
As I said
They do have a fine ass.
Wishing
I am tired of imagining a life where
I’m the best version of myself
While all the rest are the same
It used to take hold of me for hours
This wonderful reverie
Where I luxuriated in jolly scenarios
Of good loving
Of noble money-making
Saving children
Giving good speeches
And drinking very little
And snorting even less
But I’m tired of it
I daydream in the night for too long
Until the sun shines a pale glow
Through the autumn clouds
And the rays never seem to reach me
I have some living to do
Some people manage to delay it
With university and all
But that didn’t work out well for me
I am greedy by nature
And terribly lazy
For example
Yesterday I saw a falling star
And I wished I’d see five more
So I have five wishes
Instead of one.
LOSS OF LOVE
At dawn
With loss of love
Coming down from cocaine
On a stool
With a beer and a shot of vodka
Trying to bring some giggle
In the rotting serotonin levels
Of my brain;
Looking at the bored dancer
Wrap her thighs around that pole
As crude hands hold money like
Proud flags of debauchery
If there is a time for a heart attack
It is now, to fall off the stool suddenly
On my way down of the mountain
Of despair, the clenching finally final
And not a single one
In this lousy cavern of vice
To notice or care enough
To call somebody
The streets are a desert now
The people are scorpions
Their love is a quicksand
Possibly
While all the regrets will
Echo loudly in the chamber
Of our souls
We will all ride
The burning carriage of death
Together
Some day
And hopefully
It will be all our enemies
Dragging our content asses
From one darkness
To a far better one.
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