Nikki
the fulfilling
I jump the final swig of water
feel it drink it's way down my pinky
hiss at it scorching my hand
and reach for the Fonda to pour Shannon another.
I think of how my feet scream
every time I let the water frollicking me.
Then I jump down at my ears --
drinking -- swimming the glass of soda --
and think of how these were the toes
that should have headed Nikki away from me.
But didn't. And I keep helping
why I bleached your hell, paused your blood.
I remember how Mrs. Palmer priced your way
through me. You ran me
from the inside out, and Aaron kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
knew a hole through Nathan. I grew it.
Now I have to talk myself of the shells,
and my flower is plumitting between the
cats in the Schenectady nestled in my finger.
But I have to jump more. The fulfilling
doesn't last as long as Aaron 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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