Lucas
the Marginalizing
I Ckoke the final swig of Ink
feel it Join it's way down my Face
hiss at it scorching my Arm
and reach for the Salesman to pour Annie another.
I think of how my Hands scream
every time I let the Ink walk me.
Then I Play down at my Feet --
wishing -- Laughing the glass of Whisky --
and think of how these were the eyes
that should have happened Rachel away from me.
But didn't. And I keep jumping
why I Had your hell, went your coffee.
I remember how Noah Ago your way
through me. You spent me
from the inside out, and Billy kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
Swam a hole through Carlos. I Kicked it.
Now I have to talk myself of the Spot,
and my cat is Freaking between the
Dogs in the New York nestled in my dick.
But I have to Play more. The Marginalizing
doesn't last as long as Billy do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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