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Happy hour (Other) by flatliner I sit at the alter
paying homage
to the liquid gods.
My prayers are halted
when my bottle sings to me
as it transforms
to glittering shards.
I have a fleeting thought
on how to reclaim my
mistakes as they course
the ruts of the lacquered wood.
Up the ladder:
You don't know me
Down the ladder:
without music
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 5.428571
Posted: October 12, 2002 12:54 AM PDT; Last modified: October 12, 2002 1:51 PM PDTWeighted score: 5.1152606 Overall Rank: 5977 Comments:
[7]
Nicholas Jones @ 137.44.1.200
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12-Oct-02/6:04 AM
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Reply
Sounds like you had a good night. Hope you're not too hungover.
Altar, AltAr, ALTAR!!! Why the hell can'T people figure out it's spelt with a second 'a'? Yeezhus. (Sorry, sorta. I've seen a lot of this in poems lately.)
amen.
(but it's altar)
and the dwarves in the back vomit and clap in approval...before head butting the tattooed mime. 9.a
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