Beaten Poet Grinning

2:25 AM

Those cliffs are killing me thinking of you and me, shirtless gone. lost. remembered. escaped. moving. He ran to the snow, shouted. I sat, sipping flask, lost in green water. Glacier ripped through here, then I ripped through here Made mountains out of heart ache. Made rivers out of orgasms. I drew a picture cause [...]

Posted at 5:41 pm on October 12, 2008 | leave a comment | Filed Under: Poetry | read on

About

Violent acts of reckless poetry from the early hours of the night when one falls into the caring, bloodied arms of insomnia. Let yours eyes swell, coffee brew, and cigarettes burn because inspiration is like the night, it doesn’t go anywhere, it’s just a matter of placement.

So, I am too drunk to fuck, but I’m not too drunk to take it.

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10.12 2:25 AM