this morning I got nothing. I titled this as I just saw a video on it and am left wondering why why why??? neat, but only while naked, shiny and possibly blinding with hands on hips.
Anyway
I’ve never met the man who isn’t torn between
clean, sober, right,
shame, bottle and heartbreak.
who isn’t sliding toward the selfish decision;
who isn’t the man he wanted to be.
prescription drugs, narcotics
bad poetry, tense moments
of quietude and longing.
leaning against rail fences
sun shining on his face.
– Hoc Scripsi
I’ve been listening to Tom Waits all morning and this is maybe why I got nothing. This morning is about Tom Waits, which I was also listening to while watching the video (super soft porn) – so, admittedly, it was strange and leaves me wondering if I will forever associate – Way Down in the Hole – with Vajazzling, this might alter my life in the negative making it necessary to either get back on narcotics, heroin or simply up the other prescription medications.
I think that I put the finish on the poem this morning (before the video), but I also know that it has been in the works for a few years and was simply bad on a reread yesterday. I axed more than half the original lines and wrote mostly from scratch.
So, as it is rare, I reach out for opinions.
gratis.
the platitudes of willful resemblance 