Sunday, 29 January 2012

Falling from a horse

I did it again all right
that thing I do
Woke up onto a bottle of hot wine
stewing in the sun
still rolling
supressing what I couldn't remember anyway
half grateful of that
played the fool at Moon cafe
into the second bottle
after the Moon cafe
half a tab
down the hatch
felt like I was dying at first
in the back a little car
stomach churning
palms sweating
mind twisting
testicles retreating
Only one thing for it
into the ocean
still wearing my jeans
already better
we swam to the pontoon
sat there with the setting sun
and wind
and smiling people
completely lost as soon as my feet hit the shore
I looked up and down the beach
they had vanished into thin air
I recognised a kid from the pontoon
told him I was tripping and needed help
he laughed and led me to a group
sitting around an esky
someone threw me a beer
I languished with my hair in the sand
watching the sky
shutting out the bad
breathing in the good
soon familiar faces were back
then at the bookshop
smoking weed in good company
so many words stacked high on shells
the musky odour of text
after some time we continue
crash the party
I talk with too much familiarity
taunt the silk shirt
with the grin of a madman
and play somebodys guitar
while women ooze sexuality
and beam
the sunflower tree sways handsomely
and a billionaire
falls to the ground with an air of melodrama
back home
the look of gentle hurt
stabs in the chest
I try to distract it
theres a gap between us while we sleep
the next day we talk
the next day I listen
It's all been a little too constant
It's not fair
and I concur


  1. great bad trip poem, like it when it suddenly turns good...