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Fourty Caliber Thirty Pack (Free verse) by drnick
I sit alone in my apartment,
like a moving ornament
for the objects that I've
collected over the years.
Looking, hoping, praying;
anything but getting
a job because I'm lost
inside someone's American dream.
I occupy my time writing
half-witted truths
about how love is most commonly
found written on a paper.
I stare at electric screens
portraying a culture of fools
with mouths gaping waiting
for the corporate feeding tubes.
My friends are all going,
either dead or dying to leave.
They might just be people
who'll occasionally talk to me.
And the memory I pursue in my mind
is the last that I've kissed.
I found she hasn't just left
my heart but also my finger tips.
I look down the neck of a bottle
like the barrel of a gun.
When it's time to reload
I'll stop to piss out the rust.
I sit alone in my apartment
like a ghost silhouette
for the man that I
should be by now.
Looking, hoping, praying;
anything but getting
something accomplished
lost inside someone's American dream.
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Arithmetic Mean: 7.2
Weighted score: 5.2622466
Overall Rank: 3971
Posted: June 21, 2007 1:51 PM PDT; Last modified: June 21, 2007 1:51 PM PDT
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Comments:
158 view(s)
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the sense of self-loathing and despair comes across very strongly. well done.