Out there again, here I am, you can see me
Glass is half full, and, you know, also half empty
Back into the unknown, where I’m the star and the show
Maybe that’s the way it always is, though, you know
Pulling up my own sheets, getting the dogs outdoors
These are the things I used to do before
I can light my own smokes, keep myself well and fed
Play my own lullabies, find a place for my head
Something has run away
It’s my train
The one I ride in
So my whiskey is mixed with tears
Maybe my train has sped off with the fork and spoon
But it’s gone missing and it’s WANTED
This is my specialty
I call it Delicious
Bridget Jones
Bukowski
It is a glass of excuses
Tastes like glitter
I make it like this:
Open
Pour
Recover
Those pens were mine
Before I stole them
Same as the files and paper clips
Just because you are cheap
Does not mean you won’t pay people what they’re worth
You’ll just have expensive enemies
Who simply take without asking
I slipped into a river last night
My hair was wet
My clothes were soaked through
Bramble hooked into the current
Water sopped down my back
My head lopping heavily
Some dreams just keep going
Waking up is only slipping into the same river
Never, never drink plum brandy
That’s been sitting unscrewed in a bottom cabinet
Since the holidays
If you’re that desperate for a good time
Go find one
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