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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4667 Registered: 11-1998 |
Poem of the Week ratter frankenstein John Dillaby I could use something to wipe my brow. It shines with wine and candle wax. I put together another scotch. Mahler plays on the radio over the clapping heard throughout my building. I raise my glass in triumph and respect as another tenent takes a third story dive. Insane again still thinking about the rocks floating in my chair under my ass making things more real, like love, like fear. I breathe drunk, invincible slavery noticing the curtains enflamed with laughter, the world, and lace, filling my field of tilted vision. Ratter Frankenstein axes the door of simplicity to the floor of reality with his violin, spinning my head. "Bring it on!" I demand. He swings his bouquet of pain and he finds a working class joe with worn boots and a library card for a few more stories and a scotch on the rocks. |
