Sunday, November 15, 2009

november 16th, 2009



for a friend

he casually bleeds loyalty
as he lends me his sweatshirt
as he offers me his hand
as he silently applauds my success
failing only to notice
the bloods stains on the white carpet
and how easily they splash
onto my ragged pair of jeans

it's a lovely trade in my eyes



red jug

it's just me and my jug
like Nilsson and his arrow
but there's no fiction on my part
my jug is real and my jug means business.
the wine isn't bad at all
for the price
and I carried it home
with my left pointer finger
hopping and skipping
like a man who just purchased a jug of wine.
sure, I may be drunk on jug wine
(good jug wine)
but you're the one reading this load of garbage
this useless collage of words...
and I forever love you for it.


2 comments:

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  2. " my eyes are fine and I can't see any bloods stains anywhere."

    "...you are the one writing this collage of words that interpretes me and I forever love you for it & etc."

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