Wednesday, May 29, 2013

poem of the day 05.29.13


rain soaked
feet wet from failed boots

conquered by the feeble minded
adrift infinite

my eyes still red and sore
with last night’s waltz of beer and wine

facing this death sentence existence
like a slouched gunslinger
with too much blood on his hands

telling myself
maybe tomorrow mantras

…..and then this kid comes over
to me and says:

you know
without your beard
you look horrible

and bitch-slapped
by this day anew

i have
no cause
to doubt


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