I actually wrote a poem with magnetic fridge poetry. Shit.
This was on the last night of Fatty and Sherm leaving. One of 'em at least.
If you read it enough times and you're drinking in the process, it makes sense.
Drunk Dreams
Wild woman rendezvous
I understand beyond paper
The beautiful drunk flame
A kiss hurt my game desire
So cry
Take nothing
Promise high
So sit girl
Stomach his word
And inhale whatever
When not want
Sleep can fight
Fool.
I think excellence
Remember, summer of regret
Here, hope is needed
Go, woman.
Quite possibly my best work yet. I'm a nonsensical human being that likes a good hug every once in awhile. Dish 'em out, will ya?
Cripes.
I miss everyone all too much. But I'm scared to pick up the phone anymore.
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