Friday, January 13, 2012

Nocturnal Musings

Sometimes on particularly dreary nights
After a lot of whiskey and some stray stimuli
He tries to write, what he says, a poem
On love and even shoddier frivolities
But the whiskey never cascades,
Like the river back home
Into words that would make his muse proud
And as he sleeps to the taste of a shared cigarette
The morning, he knows, will never tell the same story.

1 comment: