chainwriting poems these days
lighting them off from
the smoulders of the last
like cigarettes
not even
blank-paging them but
firing them bukowski-style
the man would probably say
“as long as they come
bursting keep them burning”
downing poems
like glasses of whisky
for when passably drunk
time gets lost but still
flaking metaphors
with the fingertips
rolling them up in paper
expertly adding a bit of spit
to hold it up together
keep the hunger sharp
I say
like a murmuration
of starlings splitting into
chaos because a kestrel
decided to feed
but then in the midst of dark
comes the spite of love
almost invited
slings and arrows
songs and marrow
unhooking its barbs
caught in the heart
and it’s bloody painful
you know
so we hope to drown
in booze, smoke and solitude
but we know it’s not enough
it never is
until we plead
love please leave me be
leave me alone now
you’ve taken enough from me
I have nothing left
not even the dignity
to cry soberly over my drinks
love you know
I never learn
you know I’m an idiot
with far too big a heart
not to be swindled
like a tourist
I never learn
always fall flat on my back
winded and despondent
saying never again
but then I forget and then
I think a bit of love can’t hurt
turns out it does
even the tiniest fraction
and nothing, nothing
abates the pain
believe me I’ve tried
meds, whisky, cigs
only the poems cool the fire
only they provide
a measure of quietude
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