Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Litmus Paper Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Thursday 8/06/2009 12:27:00 AM

Don't you wonder. About broken clocks on the wall. The claws in the cat not hanging on. Won't you ask. About the crayon on her tongue. Looking for color in discarded panties.

I woke up. Accusing the wrong judge. I opened my eyes and it was the future. I was no one.

The weary damsel kissing her ugly princes. The boulders rain like a blizzard. The motor hums on my time machine. But I don't go anywhere. The toad sticks out its tongue. The fly is caught, but the larva live. I tease the monsters. That construct my nightmare. A little closer. We're almost there. Snapshots. The cadence of skin. On dying treadmills.

I see the demon close. Acid. Her cunt. Negotiates the circumstance of how. Blind dolls cut her lips like blunt scissors. On blank walls. Heavy arms. Toting the future in bundles. Lay them down near the fire. The paper unfolds. Drowned in ink. Still empty. Catches on fire.

The future. In skipping records. Serenades a wayward child. The future writes to her in broken sentences. Stories she's already been told.

The machine moves her. Though only the weakest parts. She talks to it. Where am I she asks. Nowhere. Every place. Someone you'll never be again.

Foxes on their tiptoes. Draw the pictures she'll never color in. The darkness. Content to use her.

As the numbers fade.

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