Erica Francis

Rookie (January 7,1988 - September 17,2078 / Columbus, OH)

Drunk as hell


Dreamscape
Soundless voices
Silent music

His shirt is tucked.
His belt is studded.
His pants are sloppy.
Clash.

He wraps his lips
around the 'I'
'L'
'Y'

Drunk as hell.
He spoke to me.

Drunk as hell.
Is how I remember him.

Submitted: Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Edited: Saturday, November 13, 2010

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Comments about this poem (Drunk as hell by Erica Francis )

  • Rookie Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler (11/14/2006 3:14:00 PM)

    this poem could be written by every gal who ever knew me. i'm sure when i'm older that might become sad to me. but until then, i'll wear it as a badge of honour.

    i like this one. good on ya, Erica.

    Jake (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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