tipsy

red wine and whining
about unemployment
loneliness
the difficulties of
learning a new language
i feel like my star
once rising
is falling
that i have nothing
left to say
left to do
i’ve seen half the world
but only a tenth
of myself
so i stay in
my dirty jeans
and feel sorry
for myself
when i have all
the potential
in my calloused hands

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One thought on “tipsy”

  1. Why can’t you write them pretty poems like Helen Steiner Rice whose books are usually for sale at truck stops on US two-lane highways? I ain’t knockin this one, but if you spent all your euros on red wine I will be. Google the word ‘chaos’ , open first link, write down all the synonyms –click “more” to get them all. Then scroll down and read the Physics definition and the Greek definition. Then call me re: my life. I have funny stuff to tell you if you don’t have your head in the oven.

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