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Saturday, February 9, 2013

New Years Eve

I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and  just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.

This poem is one of my favorites. I think it was published in Sex and Guts Magazine, not sure just came across it. I hope you like it as much as I do.

         New Year’s Eve

I called into work today because I am still drunk

We got kicked out of that bar last night for screaming and laughing My taxi driver kept trying to pick me up
I just kept telling him that my boyfriend was probably up waiting for me And getting worried, so we’d better drive fast, and I smiled when I told him Because I had almost convinced myself.

My boss will have my ass tomorrow And I don’t even think I can make rent.

Last night at the bar I was surrounded by people who spent hours in their Rat‐ infested
Roach‐ infested Faucet is dripping
Dirty dishes overflowing

Trash is full but there isn’t even a broom apartments
Putting on their nicest outfits so they could go out And feel interesting and important

A beautiful girl was kneeling on the bathroom floor In her sixty dollar pants
Throwing up her macaroni and cheese

While her beautiful friend held her hair out of the toilet

And we may all call ourselves by different names But it’s these primitive acts
That put us all right back down where we belong


And it’s so funny sometimes that I feel like crying

I saw you again last night

I was the one in the corner dying behind a cigarette, But I don’t think you noticed

And I won’t be like my mother Drinking to forget
Drinking to remember

I just went to that bar so I could merely stop thinking about it Just for a few hours

Stereo eating my tape Change the light bulb again
90 day payment plans

College graduations Suicides
Moldy bread


All of the faces

None of the faces

And the days I played “Oliver’s Army” over and over but I Knew it would all come back.
When you’re shitting blood and throwing up in the sink

With your roommate pounding on the door to brush his teeth it all Comes back
When you’re riding the bus it all Comes back
When you wake up in the morning

It all comes back

When you swallow a bottle of pills it all Comes back.

And it makes me feel like screaming sometimes, but Nobody listens anymore…
Not even me


I’ve got a sore throat already

And I’m afraid if I start screaming

I might never stop.

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