A true account of a lover’s drinking habits.  

Posted by Olsen Potter in

The radio on the bus is blaring out
The news of a fire somewhere.
The man who sits next to me
Is wearing cattle skin and drinking
coffee from a cup marked "Caution Hot!"
I need something for the pain.

It’s a hang-over, head-smashing pain.
I got it last night at Rebecca’s party, out
near a river, where my girl, hot
With Tequila Sunrises, wished to be somewhere
Else; wished to be drinking
In public without me.

She doesn’t love me.
Adding an emotion-numbing pain
to my introvertive drinking.
only in the unassuming night I go out;
To the movies, to a bar, somewhere
Other than my dump. Anywhere hot.

The sun, that big hot
Eye with searing rays, stocks me.
Every time I kiss her somewhere
lower then her lips I feel pain.
Because I'm always out
of it; always drinking.

I find escape, relief, Home in drinking.
Those Tequila Sunrises, makes her hot
pent-up pleasure fizz out.
So its the bus for me,
Causing my red retinas pain
Because I can’t get off somewhere.

Because I can’t get off somewhere
With my girl. My drinking
leads to skin-boiling pain.
why the sun is so hot?
Is it jealous of me?
Jealous it cant black out?

I want to go somewhere parched and hot,
drinking instead her love for me;
Maybe absorbing her pain will finally dry me out.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 02, 2007 at 10:08 AM and is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .


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