drink things from my typewriter
we're all better in smaller
doses
i thought,
but shes not.
She's better in the hung
over mornings
and the strung out
days
and the walks in the parks
when maybe i want
to hold
hands and
she doesn't
and that's ok.
in the pews
and the stained glass
and the 4am meows
at the door.
she's better in the sheets and early mornings.
she's becoming my fingers
on the keys,
she's becoming that
sunrise
my eyes once thought
i didn't want to see.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
drunk things from my typewriter
Ireland, I think
we could be friends,
if we got to know
each other better,
have a few drinks just by ourselves.
I've been on your beaches
and with your woman
and in your bars
but you and i
we never seemed to really
get any alone time,
to actually get to know
one another
and since you gave me
my father
and my fathers father
and my fathers fathers father
and his mother,
and her mothers mother
maybe you could give
me a few tips
on how to get them
to loan me
money
Ireland, I think
we could be friends,
if we got to know
each other better,
have a few drinks just by ourselves.
I've been on your beaches
and with your woman
and in your bars
but you and i
we never seemed to really
get any alone time,
to actually get to know
one another
and since you gave me
my father
and my fathers father
and my fathers fathers father
and his mother,
and her mothers mother
maybe you could give
me a few tips
on how to get them
to loan me
money
single mothers
Baby, we’ve seen a lot tougher times then
These,
She’s burning through money faster then
kerosene
She said
I was pulling up my skirt
Then
I was scrapping up my knees
In between
The motorbikes and epitaphs
And names in the
Obituary
I said,
‘oh you don’t say..’
She put the money in the glove box
And got a Kleenex for the nose bleed
I think it it’s time to get outta this city,
I think its time we blow this scene
Baby, we’ve seen a lot tougher times then
These,
She’s burning through money faster then
kerosene
She said
I was pulling up my skirt
Then
I was scrapping up my knees
In between
The motorbikes and epitaphs
And names in the
Obituary
I said,
‘oh you don’t say..’
She put the money in the glove box
And got a Kleenex for the nose bleed
I think it it’s time to get outta this city,
I think its time we blow this scene
Friday, February 19, 2010
drunk things from my typewriter
family
I’d run away,
We’d hit each other
Ya nothing too much just playing
Tough guys
Well, I was the tough guy,
just living, just surviving in the house
With demons and fat men
And a woman that used to be a woman
And I stole their liquor and drank on their roof
And would break in when they went away
Ya it was a team game, I was always outnumbered
But I walked miles
And miles in the middle of
Winter they would never walk
Never have
that hate
Never see the view through a bottle on the roof
Or spend a night in a cell
With so much disgust in your blood,
You
could
almost confuse it with
Love
family
I’d run away,
We’d hit each other
Ya nothing too much just playing
Tough guys
Well, I was the tough guy,
just living, just surviving in the house
With demons and fat men
And a woman that used to be a woman
And I stole their liquor and drank on their roof
And would break in when they went away
Ya it was a team game, I was always outnumbered
But I walked miles
And miles in the middle of
Winter they would never walk
Never have
that hate
Never see the view through a bottle on the roof
Or spend a night in a cell
With so much disgust in your blood,
You
could
almost confuse it with
Love
drunk things from my typewriter
shots to death
i felt dead and
well, that's alright.
i'll try not to offend.
maybe you can smell it but
probably
you can't.
some call it a gift
like being able to train a dog.
give your death
some
sort
of
discipline.
sit and stay and eat
when your food is on
the floor.
i smell you
i know you
spilling and staining
curdling the food in my stomach
we know each other
you, and i
so don't forget
and talk to me not as a stranger
but as a friend.
shots to death
i felt dead and
well, that's alright.
i'll try not to offend.
maybe you can smell it but
probably
you can't.
some call it a gift
like being able to train a dog.
give your death
some
sort
of
discipline.
sit and stay and eat
when your food is on
the floor.
i smell you
i know you
spilling and staining
curdling the food in my stomach
we know each other
you, and i
so don't forget
and talk to me not as a stranger
but as a friend.
drunk things frommy typwriter
titles
If we go it will be together
And the hair cuts and the tooth aches
And the hydro bills
They will all arrive in stride
And we’ll sit and watch the
The neighbours through our living room
Window
And park the car at the back of the lot
Just to make sure no one
Bumps the doors, with their doors
And I’ll grade papers
And she’ll cut carrots
And when I start thinking of these lives
Between drinks and bills
And grandparents
And stolen cable
And mortgages and love
And king size mattresses
And MORE parents -
How is this desirable?
Hank had it right,
Suffer a while,
Drink a lot,
Marry in your 60’s
Die at 74
(it all comes in stride)
But you should only love
One thing right,
At a time.
titles
If we go it will be together
And the hair cuts and the tooth aches
And the hydro bills
They will all arrive in stride
And we’ll sit and watch the
The neighbours through our living room
Window
And park the car at the back of the lot
Just to make sure no one
Bumps the doors, with their doors
And I’ll grade papers
And she’ll cut carrots
And when I start thinking of these lives
Between drinks and bills
And grandparents
And stolen cable
And mortgages and love
And king size mattresses
And MORE parents -
How is this desirable?
Hank had it right,
Suffer a while,
Drink a lot,
Marry in your 60’s
Die at 74
(it all comes in stride)
But you should only love
One thing right,
At a time.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)