Write me another shot

You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.
Ray Bradbury


I needed to lose myself between verbs that burned
as they slipped passed my modify lips, spilled from my
lungs adjectives that left me weeping unspoken moans
from pens, as my pain leaked on pages after each
delicate sip..

Let me hold them in my mouth until the acid begin to numb my tongue
and my hands shook as if stirring a glass of aged brandy
as the scent of ink tickles my nose, I inhale words intoxicating
fumes. Became dizzy with the need to release a few lines that painted
pictures with hypnotic waves weaving in and out of sync with some
unknown rhythm teasing and tantalizing in its flow..


loving the feel of them moving around in my mouth,
over taste buds like the finest of wine, I savor them before
they became ideas and movements of the past.
not forgotten just unmemorable after a better
one took its place..

Please write me another round that goes down as smooth
as a baseline that reverberate through the chest
feeling words fall gracefully from the heart... draining me
until a shell of my mind is left spinning out of control
wasted off the taste of being inebriated off words..


.....and you know that feeling ....
that feeling you get when spit gather in your mouth right
before earl calls... that's how they leave me feeling..
as if I overdosed on them and they become impatience
with me and my some timing thoughts, and simply regurgitate
spilling in psychopathic forms from my soul until I am spent
and high off the feel of them flowing like water ...
so I close my eyes and all I want...

all I want is to refill on them, shove them
back in my mouth and repeat them in a new light
reshape them to tell the tale of how sweet that pickle
was as a derange cucumber... and maybe if possible I could
get word poison and simply die off the high of watching
them flow across this screen..leaving me forever drunk off
and in words freeing tonic...

*bartender another round please*