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January 26, 2022


a few hits of whiskey are always good for a few lines of poetry
they say writing is therapy and if it is, I should have been cured by now

I can’t face the day without a drink, and couldn’t face a drink without a few others

being sober is so healthy and...boring!

I stopped looking for the truth

maybe there is no truth, if there is, maybe it’s better we don’t know what it is

we might all be in for a disappointment

wait a second...hold my coffee…

I always go out and stand in the pouring rain at least once a summer 

for the exhilaration of it, for the craziness of it

lightning struck not three feet of me, white and yellow was all I could see

there was nothing mysterious about it, it clearly was a case of the paranormal

I went back inside dripping wet, nobody paid attention, nobody cared

the music playing inside took me back to the good old days of heedlessness

and the what me worry attitude that went with it

I still had it, at least somewhat anyway

so where does the time go? it passes by without so much as a whisper

while we’re looking the other way or not paying attention at all

I got a free newspaper that they keep around the place

for people who forgot their ubiquitous laptops

I was writing down the schedule for ships to the far east just in case I decided to board one

the spirit was willing but the common sense wasn’t