hump day

so here i am, 10 pm
sitting here
hot and naked
slouched in this
beaten old computer chair
sipping dry(cheap)red wine
smoking those infernal cigarettes
i swore i’d quit
and trying to catch a buzz
trying to get the inside scoop
on the secrets of
art, enlightenment, and love
i thought it was going to be
a delicious night of poetry
a night littered with
manifestations from opaque angels
lending clouded visions
of mastery and ironic answers
to dark questions
i dare not ask in the light of day
but alas, no such luck
i have to settle for
wrinkled hands
hovering over impatient keys
as i alternate my sight between
crowded screens, shaded windows
and curios cats
sitting in dangerous
and unhampered positions
i have a small oil lamp by my side
it’s scent is strong and vulgar
and my magnificent dollar store glass
is almost empty
i want to refill it
but i don’t want to
break this spell
i’m at that perfect point
between intoxication and stupidity
and it’s such a strange feeling
being alone with your thoughts
pretending to be an artist
writing for yourself
and also hoping
someone out there will resonate
with your lonely
half mad, word orgasms
some of you might understand this
most will not
personally, i think this whole game
is a comical tragedy
but then again
there are certainly worse ways
to spend a hot summer night



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