i get drunk on wine and
mumble metaphors and acid waves,
white roses and a
mausoleum for juvenile cliché.
see?
i’m already doing it,
stuttering through a long winded
meandering
anticlimatic
unintelligible
stumbling mumbling bumbling
idiot diatribe rant of unbelievably
undeniable
inexplicable
stupidity.
where else can i go with this?
nowhere?
shit,
i’m already
there.