Sleeping in the rain

entry picture

Another drunk poem between headphones, static & blank screens
surround me
Awoke in the morning with a gamblers smile, like seagulls flocking,
resting, gliding
Broken, crushed, words like quiet jokes until that last whisper under
dirty sheets in a cheap motel
Yet we sip our poison and smoke our cancer, brothers and friends crammed
into closeness
Smiles spent on the eyes of those to lovely to smile back, yet their
hearts were warmed
By gapped tooth grins and young men with dirt under
bitten fingernails
Last night the headlights behind me made silver halos
in the mist
As I walked down gravel roads with mud stuck everywhere, my
constant companion
Some days I forget I’m human, that I exist, sitting in the passenger seat,
watching the world run by
Two kids with backpacks and a stray cat, asked them where they were heading,
“Hitchhiking to nowhere..”
Nowhere sounds about right right now, looking at the
state of things
A place of fragrant trees and uncut grasses, stones unturned and
clear running streams
The broken limestone memories of my childhood call
to me
Not much left of that anymore, just fragments like a
smashed tooth
Can’t even think some days, easier not to I think, easier to let
it all pass by
I saw a darkness today, and I closed my eyes to try for
Standing under rusty bridges, flicking dead embers
Between blue lines on the page I spill thoughts like
spoilt milk
Scribbles and scratches, wasted and unwanted, lost between
Memories I claim, not sure if they’re even mine
Twenty two years old with a death wish by thirty
Dots and lines, a splash of smiles and laughter, stains
in the carpet
And we sit here like corpses, the two of us, cigarette butts between
twitching fingers
Stilled by the last exhale, the moment between
inaction and locomotion
Our still waters stirred, clear blue skies filled with rain clouds, still
blue above them
Your room, surrounded by rooms full of people, washing dishes or
watching their dreams die on T.V. screens
None of that matters to me, just your breath and hearing your voice for a second
before sleep takes over
I left a note in that book you told me you’d read, guess you
never got around to it

◄ Glass skull ashtray

Acirema Tales ►


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