Measured hics of a liquor’s stain touch my pulse,
But I’ve only been drinking since noon - of 1978;
The windows glaze at you with eyes of mercy.
Thirty years and you never checked the air
In the tires of my love and now the steel belt
Is showing through the rubber of my soul.
Paraguay and Uruguay still mean nothing.
The rent is due. Then you walk into the room
And I can’t breathe. Nature abhors a vacuum.
Full circle, four square, three on a match,
Two to get ready, won… No, I lost. You…
My ice screams shiver a fevered brow.
Then I awake, to find you warm and near,
Just like Emily, wherever I may find her…
But not the I - me, the he - me, Art Garfunkel.
Fishing with an internet, a site for soar ayes!
Gritty homonyms give no quarter. But as the ladies
Are all saying, whatever Phelps you through the night.
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4 comments:
Haunting. Powerful. Emotionally wrenching.
Yes, I bared my soul. Or as Mrs. LK would say, I beered my soul...
Is that permission?! Sweet. I am going to go Beering my soul right now! Beer right back.
Damn. That's some good stuff right there.
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