a brief view on my own life

21st century poet

I wear thirteen-year-old T-shirts
but I spray them with the most expensive colognes around
I don’t buy them, only use the testers
I’m socially awkward so I might come close
to touch your hair without asking for your permission
you’d probably punch me
but I’ll say that I’m weird and sorry
I’ve never punched anybody in my life, please don’t hurt me
I’m not afraid to write a poem
when something beautiful touches me inside
I see my drunkenness as a preface to wisdom
when I drink a poem I become a mystic
when I peruse your vodka I become a breathing metaphor
I use my sadness as a dictionary
to decipher the language of modern civilization
I do not wish to bore you with my autobiography
when you are done, burn up this poem and use the flame
to warm up your soul.

 

modern poetry

the last drop

Remember

when we met

by that corner of a disguise

talking with the stillness

   that is common to oil

it was an early October blizzard

that trapped us before

we’ve identified our inertia

locked in that cold

with a bottle of vodka and

        letters from Rilke

we drank the last drop

     of our nihilism

ready to die there

    or live on perpetually

with no sense at all.

 

Nihilist Poet