from the bottle
he is left
with the heavy machinery
of his mind
hanging from a rope
like a busted tractor engine
in a barn.
he stands
at a distance
eying
the strange contraption
skeptically.
sunlight
coming through the windows
for the first time in years
frightens him
immensely.
cool poem
ReplyDeleteminds are heavy machinery.
ReplyDeleteI knew you were a bastard, but not a drunk. I thought that was the girl who puked on you for your first date...that didn't make it in a poem? ; )
ReplyDelete