Skip to main content

Johnny Walker










Johnny Walker



Dirty, gritty/
Hurt me, pretty/
Please, disturbing glittery/
Purchase hitting/
Uncertain victory/
With its furtive prissy/
Outlook, girl this whiskey/
Isnt worth the sipping/
Perfect splitting/
Up, purse with little/
Tassles, observant, tipsy/
But learning fifty/
Pick up lines could hurry this thing/
Along, curt and whispering/
About flirting, gripping/
A servant whisking/
Me away with hormonal purpose, if these/
Shots dont work I'm limping/
Back to the bar/
Stranded too far/
Away to merge the shifting/
Social tides as I'm handing the card/
To the ratchet bizarre/
Ass with a mark/
That manages our/
Splurging swiftly/
I'm emerging lifted/
Up by false bravado/
It calls for shots of/
Appalling bottom/
Of the barrel vodka rotted/
Out like a monstrous compost/
Heap, pardon all the/
Distraught fatigued/
Demolished dreams/
That flock to these/
Holes of hardened water/
It's probably starting/
To arduously/
Glob to me/
An exotic freak/
That just paused to vomit/
I'm the uncommon varmint/
That has promise barking/
From the top to stop this/
Harder nonsens-/
Ical living, bottles, narcs and/
Knocking all those/
Shit talkers off of/
Their barstools, rocked unconscious/
Carpool/
To calm views/
With Johnny Walker/
This party's starting/
To cost too/
Much to drop crude/
Amounts of money, the volume/
Is always on it's/
Causing conflict/
Leaving my head throbbing constant/
But I'm a charming convict/
At that's what my detractors say/
I captivate/
The static breaks/
And they look, habits change/
They gravitate/
Towards me/
Hoarding/
Untampered faith/
But I cast away/
The maggots, fakes/
And magistrates/
With my massive brain/
After they/
Catch a plane/
And pass away/
To the outer gate/
I stand in shame/
As my tactics, pain/
And dashing strange/
Aftertaste/
Leave me in a padded, dank/
Smelling room, wrapped in chains/
Smacked and splayed/
Out, chatting straight/
With stammering lame/
Regulars/
Set to learn/
Why I have to claim/
Every chance I take/
Chapters sway/
As I navigate/
This wheel a hamster deigns/
To sprint on/
But with all/
The withdrawals/
I clam and take/
A hammer straight/
To my rabid face/
At a rapid pace/
As the sun answers traced/
Pictures on constellations/
I pause and make a/
Tragic race/
To the head and slam a case/
Of liquid courage on the absent vac-/
Ant pool table/
And move, strangling/
My savage ways/
For another night, stranded, pray/
For me, because I'm damned today/

Popular posts from this blog

Crystal Lake

Crystal Lake I'm begging you to let me immolate/ This is straight/ From the heart because this inner pain/ Won't dissipate/ I'm lifting weights/ With every bitter day/ Because this hidden angst/ Fuck, it simply weighs/ Too much for me to mitigate/ What I'm feeling, to be alone, a risk to take/ I'm in a pickle late-/ Ly, as I sit and wait/ On a phone call from a certain little name/ That will never hit the stained/ Glass, so I rip and rage/ Against myself, against the strain/ Of this mistake/ And with that one, the ripples graze/ Across the surface of the crystal lake/ Of my mind, the crypt I lay/ In is of my own building, I fell in, tripped and splayed/ Out on the concrete/ All these/ Haunting/ Images come back to taunt me/ I'm wanting/ The past to arm me/ With calm things/ Palm me/ In your hand baby and stop me/ From washing/ Away these thoughts each/ Night with whiskey and oxy/ I'm falling/ Darkly/ Into the halls

My Return To The Field

How often must I remain here? I must have died unexpectedly, and my wandering spirit, aura thick with malevolence and anguish, refuses to acknowledge my own death. Indeed, I have become a ghost, cursed to haunt diners, coffeeshops, bars and beaches, pen brandished and book unsheathed. I've grown so distant from others that Im more statue than Man, yet where this separation once stung painfully, it now soothes reassuringly. Lumped in with a generation of "men" with testosterone levels lower than a woman's would be 30 years ago, and forced to make due with "women" that proudly proclaim themselves sluts and will actually attempt to fistfight men if they are ignored and eschewed, as they should be, my sentiment is clear. I want no part of this generation. It's filthy and degraded. You could say I'm living a daydream right now, a fantasy granted the breath of life by divine providence. How many shifts at work have I frittered away contemplating the per

Frostbite

I often feel apart from the world. I enjoy it, partake in it, and have connections within its borders, but I am not of it. Truth is that I can't relate to the vast majority of people. Like seeing a flop at a poker table, Ive just become intimately attuned with a variety of social situations and the nuances they require. Admittedly, and indeed surprisingly to some to whom I never waste my breath, I tend to be very commanding and articulate in conversation. I can converse on a variety of topics with nimble comfort, and set the focus of my attention at ease rather quickly. Im particularly adept at engaging strangers in conversation, breaking them from their reveries, then gleaning what I need from them. On a whole Im very Machiavellian, and I harbor no shame about this side of my nature. The world turned its back on me years ago, so I have no qualms about using its denizens for my own gain when they've proven themselves sufficiently immoral and ill-mannered. From the perspective