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May 02, 2005
real men
whatever happened to the days
when men drank
like they wanted it to kill them
all I see now are these sows
who say no no, one glass is enough
I don’t know about you brother
but when I want to celebrate
or dwell
I don’t need a drink
I need a bottle
and that’s just to prime my pump
Id just assume assassinate my image, born from christ’s
(as they're so eager to remind me)
than uphold some frivolous code of righteous plasticity
the lawmakers and Mary Kay adhesive artists
are nowhere to be found after that closing time phone call
when flares burn in your sockets
and the bones in your hands ache from the unconscious process
that’s the time when a bottle of sloth
plays the role of shoulder and shipmate
listening at whatever station
you choose as your temptress of debasement
In the morning
there is silence with such stationary objects
unlike the ones
who take no time in firing verbal lightning
into your splitting skull
unlike our friend
who is always happy to oblige the 8 AM urge
unless it has nothing left to offer
though it usually has a friend just down the road
if you have the proper tools of procurement
something to drown out her banality
and uncouth barbiturates
in the end, what will any of it matter
we’re all worm meat
at least a few of us will get our fill
while the rest sip from glass straws
and puree the calories
Posted by Drexler at May 2, 2005 06:13 PM