Dated 17-May-2001
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My nostrils burn,
With acid and bile.
Subjected to the sick,
My mouth wasn’t large enough,
To emit in time.

It was fun while it lasted,
But like all good times,
It dulled and lost its glimmer,
And died.
Leaving day old food,
And way too much,
Of today’s wine,
Lying in my gut,
Like the weight of my sins on my soul.

The moon slants down,
Casting contrast,
Into a world
NOT black and white,
But so many shades of gray,
That the mind has almost no choice
But to try and turn them into color.

My Technicolor-drab piece of the world,
It’s all mine….
Cause no one else wants it.

I’m going to sleep now,
Over here in my corner.
Look for me tomorrow,
We’ll go looking for food,
Maybe we can scrounge,
Spare bills and coin,
Get us a bottle to share.
And have a little party.

We can invite the moon again,
I’m sure he’ll come,
He never turns down a party.