Writing While Drinking

Tragic Stories

a girlfriend is
a book;
a tragic story of some kind.
complete with a
beginning, a climax,
and an end.
some last longer, and
each day
is
its own chapter.
once you finish
one,
you open another.
you can read them twice,
but,
its never as good.
and still, we continue,
turning
another
page.


Digging Up The Past

It had been 3 years since I saw my ex girlfriend.
I was early, waiting
at the bar.
I wasnt nervous,
but,
I needed a drink.
I ordered a bottle of beer
for myself,
also,
a shot of whiskey.
Just as I finished my beer,
she arrived.
She looked alright.
I took the shot of whiskey,
she looked better.


Hopeless

drinking again,
finishing my 5th beer.
a women standing
next to me.
shes on her third.
its a race
to the grave.
i buy a whiskey,
she buys vodka.
we light a smoke
at
the same time.
the hours
pass,
the brain
decays,
the eyes continue
to lie.
she says "hello".
i respond,
"will you marry me?"


Inspiration

The streets were quiet as I looked out of
the living room window.
No cars, no lights,
no action.
I couldnt think of anything to write
and I was alone
and I was sober
and I didnt have a clue.
These nights seem to happen
too often.
I desperately needed a phone call or
someone to knock on the door,
come inside, and
give me a drink.
It could be
anyone.
A male or a female, or both, or a big group
of people.
We would talk and laugh about the past
and the future;
all of us drinking heavily.
The hours would pass
and my brain would start working
properly.
They would all leave and I would sit down
and finish the leftovers.
Then I would have a cigarette and I'd be drunk
with a head
full of crazy thoughts.
Id finish my drink, put out
the cigarette, and
sit down with my pen and my paper
and finally
be able to write something.
Actually,
I
just
did.