Always when an essay is due, does the poetry flow.
A beautiful old acoustic guitar sits in this grey house.
He hasn’t played in years – hasn’t written, hasn’t sung a note.
It’s been a pretty serious hiatus.
He left that warm inspirational incubator
back when he got a desk job.
He’s been pretty down for a while – years actually.
It’s a direct correlation, he thinks.
Music was his therapy: his channel
for the oxygen to his soul;
how he breathed his energy flow
in and out, in and out.
A beautiful old acoustic guitar sits in this grey house –
where the air is stale and the dust is heavy.
He has stayed for too long.
He could pick up that guitar –
sing a song.
Green Means Drink!
It’s a bright sunny day!
Time to celebrate!
Why not intoxicate
with beer beer beer?
Beer beer puke pee –
these floods are all the same to me!
Breaking glass is lots of fun
on these roads under this sun.
On a tide of cheer
fueled by beer,
We came to get high
to forget our lows,
Oh St Patrick’s Day!
Another excuse to get wasted,
and drink our problems away.