deepundergroundpoetry.com
Just another twelve hours.
It starts with a few beers.
It goes from one bar to the other.
It is the spotty face of the first year student
asking too many questions
and being shocked on hearing the deserved response.
It is walking home and finding a group of four
sober individuals entitled 'street angels.'
It is following them as they 'work'
only to denounce god before the police
escort you away from them.
It is getting home to find the bedroom
and bathroom flooded with saturated food
and its saturator.
It is cursing at the ceiling
with threats and abuse,
waiting for the oppurtunity to release.
It is passing out.
It is waking to the same mess.
It is needing sex and it not being there.
It is putting your card in to the cashpoint
to be told 'no'
It is a group of students that are in the way.
It is a public display of 'fucks' and 'cunts'
delivered at their nervous faces.
It is a small, wry smile.
It is just another twelve hours.
It goes from one bar to the other.
It is the spotty face of the first year student
asking too many questions
and being shocked on hearing the deserved response.
It is walking home and finding a group of four
sober individuals entitled 'street angels.'
It is following them as they 'work'
only to denounce god before the police
escort you away from them.
It is getting home to find the bedroom
and bathroom flooded with saturated food
and its saturator.
It is cursing at the ceiling
with threats and abuse,
waiting for the oppurtunity to release.
It is passing out.
It is waking to the same mess.
It is needing sex and it not being there.
It is putting your card in to the cashpoint
to be told 'no'
It is a group of students that are in the way.
It is a public display of 'fucks' and 'cunts'
delivered at their nervous faces.
It is a small, wry smile.
It is just another twelve hours.
Published 15th Oct 2011
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The author encourages honest critique.
16th Oct 2011 2:57am
...and you tell it well. A glimpse into the strains of the ordinary, the shades of grey we wade through to find the jewels in our own lives....roll on brother.
Hugh.
Hugh.
17th Oct 2011 1:57am
I feel the loneliness in this even though all these other participants float through. I feel it without even a describing word as to the inner workings of your character's head or heart. I love how you sucked me in to the ordinary, the mundane, and left me to feel this. Awesome.
