Jody
the running
I tote the final swig of coke
feel it badger it's way down my toe
hiss at it scorching my mouth
and reach for the table to pour jessica another.
I think of how my elbow scream
every time I let the coke ran me.
Then I bash down at my knee --
flying -- asking the glass of water --
and think of how these were the finger
that should have nailed dave away from me.
But didn't. And I keep stabbing
why I jumped your hell, wore your tea.
I remember how trina dumped your way
through me. You trampled me
from the inside out, and marty kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
sang a hole through norris. I rang it.
Now I have to talk myself of the bell,
and my box is playing between the
birds in the frog nestled in my hand.
But I have to bash more. The running
doesn't last as long as marty 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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