That moment - to this …
may be years in the way they measure,
but it’s only one sentence back in my mind -
there are so many days
when living stops and pulls up and sits
and waits like a train on the rails.
I pass the hotel at 8
and at 5; there are cats in the alleys
and bottles and bums,
and I look up at the window and think,
I no longer know where you are,
and I walk on and wonder where
the living goes
when it stops.
I still have a little whiskey left and therefore a chance.
She’s always high,
In heels,
Spirit,
Pills,
Booze.
What you do is take whatever luck comes your way and pretend
you know more than you ever will.
The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little more off you, until there was nothing left.
My beer-drunk soul is sadder than all the dead Christmas trees of the world.
What you do is take whatever luck comes your way and
pretend
you know more than you ever
will.