On this eve of the new year

On this eve of the new year
as darkness descends upon us
and the rockets start firing
when past is, for just a moment, forgotten
that one time when we can just focus on the present
and what's to come
That's when you'll see her
that one creature
that I desire
over all

Here's to the next calender
here's to her.

Rot

Hours and hours and hours and hours...
Spend most days in bed
nights as well.

Hair starts to fall off. One by one.
nosebleeds becoming all the more frequent
false teeth and flaky skin
I smell of rot.

Inner Self

Sometimes the lines get blurry
at other periods in time they get lonesome.
Like the road she walked home on,

<never bring forth the inner self
>question the others' instead

It's Not What You Had, It Is What you Are Left With

I am reminded of that long-ago time when I
- this unemployed 
ever so slightly leaning towards the intoxicated side
rather than the sober and generally more behaving side -
Started to go out this girl

In a horrendously foolish adept to seem mysterious
and therefore maybe, hopefully and perhaps aspiring towards being interesting (...)
, I only ended up with a girl that didn't know her partner in crime.
A mistake indeed.

Might I add:

The warm, soft cheeks
moist, red lips
reaching out for contact
whilst the shoulders make a run for it
just in order the send chest and stomach forward
A deep breath
followed by the most arousing sigh I have ever heard.

It's not what you had, it is what you are left with.

The Everlasting Pump

An animal that never leaves your side
A cold chill always at the other
The dark dance around the fire
as if on a mystified chemical
that word-of-mouth said was healthy
but now illegal and dangerous
according to them

Just one little while free of the everlasting pump
That just keeps pumping you through city block
after city block
through sky-piercing building
after sky-scraping building
Even though you thought you were in a traffic-jam.

I didn't know that day-dreams would be this useful outside of school.

Three bottles of scotch

Three bottles of scotch
don't blend it
don't even think about it
Take the good with the bad
(as they say)

Never once did I think well
when on the other things
Write drunk
edit sober
(as he said)

Pressure on an empty stomach
dry mouth
aching head
and we go on and on and on and on and on.
Until the Sun shines
and the Moon is forced to hide.