Monday, June 23, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
I am dying of sadness and alcohol
he said to me over the bottle
on a soft thursday afternoon
in an old hotel room by the train depot.
I have, he went on, betrayed myself with
belief, deluded myself with love
tricked myself with sex.
the bottle is damned faithful, he said.
the bottle will not lie.
meat is cut as roses are cut
men die as dogs die
love dies like dogs die,
he said.
listen, Ronny, I said,
lend me 5 dollars.
love needs too much help, he said.
hate takes care of itself.
just 5 dollars, Ronny.
hate contains truth. beauty is a facade.
I'll pay you back in a week.
stick with the thorn
stick with the bottle
stick with the voices of old men in hotel rooms.
I ain't had a decent meal, Ronny, for a
couple of days.
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