your drink is your woman

you would think

or maybe just I alone

that a drunk would be the world's greatest lover

from the outside in, it feels this way

I've known so many

drunks

winos

sauceheads

men submerged in the smokey pool halls close to the tracks

belching drink orders through the bites of lunch they had

their bedrooms, alone with truth and a bottle

then maybe a few friends show up

bad memories, all line up

linear like

perverse views, waxed with pinesol or cooking wine

the lowly rubbing alcohol rusting their gut

what do you get when you add 30 years?

bottom toothed bummers, chimps aboard a constant stretch of reality

so dedicated to a blind destruction, a lot like love

a dive into the chest of another

to wash yourself with them

the worst of them

the best

the froth beneath their lid and of their crotch

as they share that crotch with others and their froth bears no fruit for you

you're just an elevated roommate

like a sobbing consumer exploring the beer cave at the citgo

so courageous you are

to love your drink

to love your woman

blink only when they blink

so you don't miss a glance

the same as a drunk and a sip

it can't be missed

to curb

bust
busty
busted

I'm there, these words are too
you coming with up?

I have beer and some dank upper mids

up three stories
I'll tell you one story

me and you and my bed and our bodies

our everything
together
one last time

to curb this ache

a dope to the in

all the mechanical dribble
the perseverance of beer, cloves, and speculation
it kills
it owns me
it commandeers every single thought

moved to worse thoughts
stressed truths
the friction between genitals
an ex
an old
and me left at home

I wish I could push this on you
but you'll never care enough
to lose a night of lust
to lose a night of sleep
over anyone
and I sat saying fuck me for not having enough hate to cover this up

the song to end the party

all the single ladies in the room are you in love or lust
which could define you, do you ache to be touched
men are we the numbers, the ticks we're measured by
or are we undefined, undefined
children, lets act domestic, lets play 2nd mortgage on the house,
chain you to a rusted chevy motor, and let you gather a crowd
entertain and be tamed, play this raging game
perpetuate our "natural" roles
If we're stuck then we best fess up
it's a sickness to be something you're not
If we're stuck then we best fess up
it's an illness I haven't got

I'm vein and stained

if you don't believe god's pissing on you, just taste the rain, but divinity grants no stains
if you don't believe you're into yourself, count your mirrors, and claim your vein

harry partch

hammer and nail, glass blown to shape pitch, if a man can reshape orchestration we can reshape this/ a first stroke dry, we'll dip the second try, a promise to ourselves, we'll pen the night/ under a willow in spring, we can count the leaves colored green/ under a willow in spring, we can count where we've been/under a willow in spring, we can count the innocence lost/we'll be in bigger cities by then, under a willow in spring/ on the top of the bottom of youth, we'll be the friars of stale news/ Pennsylvania girl you can't sue over what you didn't lose, it's sad, say sadness, won't touch the touched again/ under a willow in spring, we can count where we've been/under a willow in spring, we can count the innocence lost/we'll be in bigger cities by then, under a willow in spring/