by Paul Hellweg
Most nights I sleep
with a dozen or so books
makes me feel less alone
and yeah
fuck right
I’d rather sleep
with
one woman
than a dozen books,
but books don’t
need anything,
they don’t give a shit
about my
low self-esteem
performance anxieties
night terrors,
and they don’t leave
in the middle of the night,
so until I meet someone
willing to read
all my pages
without critical commentary
and
open to offering the same,
until then,
my fate is destined to remain
more literary
than
satiated
satisfied
or
tolerable.
September 25, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2009
(479)
-
▼
September
(31)
- Name-checking Billy F***in Collins
- subject to availability at selected stores
- An Irish Enclave
- an afternoon
- dusty villa and a few cans of beer
- gritty plaza rainbow
- Open Book
- I’ll Paint You in Words
- what we’ve been doing with ourselves
- RIPE
- MOONLIGHT NIGHT: WINTER
- kathleen turner
- untitled grief on a september afternoon
- Parking Lot
- the broken stripper
- Public Restroom
- Bringin' Home the Bacon
- Only Darkening
- Someone to Talk to
- Girl Cuffed
- Poems Like Jackson Mac Low
- The Media Is The Message
- WHY I DON’T FUCK MY WIFE ANYMORE
- with friends like me...
- MY AFTERNOONS WITH DYLAN THOMAS
- The Neighbor’s Daughter
- It’s a Good Night for Drinking
- plan b
- WATCHING TV
- IN THE END
- Dirty Librarian
-
▼
September
(31)
0 comments:
Post a Comment