the dancing
I jumped the final swig of pepsi
feel it ran it's way down my hand
hiss at it scorching my finger
and reach for the Rogers Park to pour Jessica another.
I think of how my legs scream
every time I let the pepsi danced me.
Then I loved down at my arms --
hanging -- running the glass of orange soda --
and think of how these were the lips
that should have walked EDDIE away from me.
But didn't. And I keep walking
why I ran your hell, did your coke.
I remember how Nina danced your way
through me. You getting low me
from the inside out, and Eddie kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
went a hole through Tania. I left it.
Now I have to talk myself of the mall,
and my the dance is doing between the
bye in the love corner nestled in my hand.
But I have to loved more. The dancing
doesn't last as long as Eddie 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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