punchy
drunk punch
punch bobbing head
halloween said
fred is fred
lead is leed
free is freed
I’m somewhere
here
uncertain
punchy
woken up early
ready to
go to work
punching sporadic words
discover as
I go along in this big
experiment of
writing habit I’ve
kept along
for so many years now
at night she is bored and goes through
the basket I keep underneath
the living room table
containing some of my old writings
“I just read two of your books
while you were sleeping”
in a novel someone is writing about me
and my washed hair
I tear through the pages pretty quick
and laugh at the possible repercussions
of this thing actually making it
to print and being “immortalized”
outside of my control
imagine there’s always
a writer looking over
your shoulder
figuring words to describe you
quickly flicking shorthand in
a little notepad…
can be a little…
MUCH
basically I just sit back
gentle, Buddhist, kinda,
ready to
kill
or bring life in
one way or another
almost a believer of something
big on the 2012 horizon
or some horizon not
being too far off and away
so I sit down with
another medium and broadcast
or podcast and
have two shows under my
belt now
not expensively produced or
extensively polished
but there
I have a new job
where I walk around a lot
but have to
cover a lot of ground
I have to get better
pick up the pace
get the swing of things
it is all new territory
to me
guess I should take an
umbrella
I don’t wash my hair
as much as some would
think
it’s just because I’m a
hippy
and want it to
resemble tree bark, ya know?
rough and barky
so I am torn over what to
say next in broadcastland
it’s like I can
be all chatty (episode 2)
or just throw
down poems (episode 1)
or do a mixture
of both finding a happy medium (episode 3?)
my strange stranger
does not always make it back to the house
says any day now she could
wind up dead
I don’t know if this is wishful thinking
but if it does happen it will break my heart
I am somewhere in the middle of
this poem or piece of… LIFE, I guess
somewhere in the middle with her
it is with deep pain she says
all these things
torn between love and hate
for others and herself
all of which has become so hard
to juggle to manage due to
alcoholism turning into a major beast
alcoholism, the big mind scrambler
fucks everything up
wanna get more bitter? have ten more drinks
sneak a few home with you
take them out and continue the
night on the couch soaking it in as
the sun comes up
BGKPOETRY.COM 