Its Monday, evening
and so, I shoot myself
in the face
this time with a drink
of a larger calibre
the shot glass
both distraction
and cure
willed by
the days ahead
Its Monday, evening
and so, I shoot myself
in the face
this time with a drink
of a larger calibre
the shot glass
both distraction
and cure
willed by
the days ahead
What meaning, then, do you ascribe to these poor words, found ailing and placed with not so intensive care upon the screen
should this be determinism of your own, of that of another author
Simply said, which one?
After all,
It who typed the keys
owns no meaning, for
that died
the moment the pixels heard an apparent voice
I put
empty hope
into my wallet
a photo stolen
not taken
from where
it
should have remained
yielding to
and encouraging
fixation
Amended 15 Nov 2020
The staff of the Indian restaurant were crowning in their contempt. We’d been bowling, straight from work, beers by the lane. Two strikes in a row was a peak at about 7 pints, but then straight down the gutter. A foreshadowing drunk. The others from work went off to eat, but lost, we instead called at the Swan, for 2 nicks of vodka and orange. We arrived late to the restaurant.
These words
sit
in temporary limbo
waiting for an edit, and
a click
to publish a meaning
with permanance confirmed
until
the hosting ends
Yes
I was once, but it was a long time ago
Its likely that you are thinking of someone else
Probably the one on the right
Very nice thank you
Using an axe, then buried in the garden to stop the screaming
I choose the first bottle with a degree of care. The cat will be watching as I drink it, and besides, there’s always a chance that I’ll taste this one.
Pinot rouge, which is a joke to myself, because its black and red, a wine in a sweater which later will be a truth as I drink.
A good first start. The second choice is more difficult. Something fruity, but without the heaviness of a bottle of domestos. I don’t want to clean my teeth until later.
The normals, looking around the shop for something to drink as opposed to numb the dull sensation of their pointless and inevitable decline, choose a four pack.
Ideas are infectious as I grab three more of the same, rabid as my mouth salts inside with the thought of inevitable repetition, killing ninety nine percent of known thoughts, dead.
After the all
and in the end
he
aided by imagination
rewrote history
to the silent applause
of critical acclaim
Amended 26 May 2014
I walked past someone today
They looked like you, and so I smiled
But it was someone else, and
no-one, and so they walked away
After that I stopped smiling for today
and went back into the house
Through the window the world is
just an occasion to be witnessed,
a distraction or
an infinite jest
A place outside, viewed, where
we’ll always remain friends.
I say hello to Autumn
its overcast skies meeting my own dark eyes
as we together question the season
“What if?” I say
and the weather points with leaf-littered precision
crisp answers
to questions unfinished.