my drink: copper-colored.
no, dirtier muddier uglier.
drunk art.
words slip accidental
and sloppy
from un - enlightened lips.
drunken beauty.
lights drip accidental
from unen - lightened glass globes
and it’s all accidental
all just drunk poetry
all accidental
all drunk poetry
and I just want to go on a walk
through a dead park
there:
where the trees are grey as the sky above
there:
where dead leaves lie limp in the mud
here:
trees sway erratically,
errotically,
if the mood is right, and
randomly (though the wind denies it).
trees sway greenery,
and bright with summer,
randomly
(though the sight abhors it.)
and there:
birds are silent
in a dead park
in my dead park
I just want to be
where walk only weary fleeting souls
where I alone draw quiet breaths,
and sun nor moon nor stars show face,
I want to wander aimless and .alone.
but I’m here in this crowd
in this brightlitnighttimecelebration
sur rOunded by
the world and everything in it
and I’m just thinking ab-
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