Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Not even a dribble.

https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2018-06-19T08_22_42-07_00

Nothing left
Not even a dribble
Soaked in the memories of memorized restraint

It didn’t last long
The determination to resist a multitude of second chances
I was tired and I was through with all of those newspaper clippings

Let’s start back at the beginning
When words came to me like rainbows and unicorns hopped up on crystal meth
I was a Rabbi and a wordsmith and a disc jockey chopping through the ether

Just want to sit on the toilet like a despoiled king or a queen wearing a crooked crown
Waiting for someone to pull me out of the jaws of a five alarm alligator
I cannot find my bootstraps and even if I could I don’t believe my back would support this everlasting ego

Nothing right
Not even a drip or drop of pristine paint or anguished levity
Sometimes you just have to accept no one’s coming and pain is your very last defense

Charles Cicirella
5/20/18

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