PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Join us-- Join the sacrament.

We learn to do little or nothing

and sit on butt cushions all day,

realizing that we are not okay.

We are thrown into starry skies,

whitehot and pleasantly plagued,

pursuing secrets of solace,

high on bittersweet dream drugs.

If we take enough tequila shots,

the world is our gleaming oyster pearl

and life is a puppet play of chaos.

Spotlights blind us glaringly,

even from beyond the purple curtains.

The audience doesn't exist.

My head spins like a ceiling fan.

Why am I the only man of me there is?

One feels lonely as a withered whale.