drove through imminent storm to sell wares for first friday in knoxville where the sky parted and people partied in and out until i passed out ...hung over me, my brother, and primrose went to prep my brother's house to paint...all the fuck of it..only i was to be paid for this (400) which was not bad and ...none of this really noteworthy is it...
Friday night needs a recap....of what really happened....and what did really happen? There was a whirlwind when the whiskey was drunk....Everybody was happy or so it seemed....the lovers loved and the dreamers dreamed, (cliche...i know but this is how i see it: a poet from time to time to allow his observation to be relative must use a cliche a time or two to give the viewer(s) a sense of the irony and the feel of a typical knoxville night....By 12 midnight everyone was either drunk or getting there or past there...i really need to watch my alcohol intake....It really does affect your memory....For some reason after having such a good time my whiskey mind went mad and i apparently became irritated at everything and everyone.............anywho.....last night got drunk again and high and had a great time getting there....wrote this poem inspired by the thought of reading it an open mic at Braken's Bar in Maryville, but i didn't cause i can't play guitar:
Cauterized by your lips
and still
this wound wont heal
like a dog you sing to me
like the wolf that
i will always be
hunted through
this diseased world
only to single out
another