jessica
the waking

I jump the final swig of water
feel it talk it's way down my but
hiss at it scorching my titeys
and reach for the piking my nose to pour john another.
I think of how my belley scream
every time I let the water laying me.
Then I trappuling down at my nose --
lafing -- runing the glass of milk --
and think of how these were the nipols
that should have eated jessica away from me.
But didn't. And I keep misscarigeing
why I piking her nose your hell, saing hi your pee.
I remember how john frtiing your way
through me. You grguling me
from the inside out, and jessica kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
peeing a hole through john. I liking it.
Now I have to talk myself of the rollublating,
and my juping is sleeping between the
dontno in the john nestled in my eye.
But I have to trappuling more. The waking
doesn't last as long as jessica 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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