Drinking Poem

by Narph   Dec 2, 2012


Three twenty seven and her head
spins, impaled on
the sometimes up,
sometimes down of drunken gaze,
gauze fastened to her knee, no, it's not
permanent, but I'd appreciate a bit more
push and pull every now,
every then.

Drunken poems always sound obscure.
Tumble dry makes a good ham sandwich,
I say
Tumble dry might have been a servant in the 1910s
I say
When my mouth gets dry I drink gin and pray to god
I feel better about myself this time.

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Latest Comments

  • 10 years ago

    by Fading Memory

    Beautiful 18's style in 21th's way , all was gray and sudden flash of blue

  • 11 years ago

    by Jordan

    I love your writing. That ending was fantastic.

    Welcome back.

  • 11 years ago

    by Mohan

    Nice written keep writing