nursing a beer,
and a headache.
choking and smoking.
how clever, i rhymed.
at 3am
i'm listening to jazz
staring at this screen.
so tired,
(yawn)
so bored,
(yawn)
but i can't go to bed.
too many thoughts running through my mind,
wreaking havoc in my brain.
i'm shoobee doobee-ing all over the place,
a constant saxohone blaring in my ear.
maybe i should stop listening to jazz,
the neighbours will complain.
maybe i'll turn it up.
'people will say we're in love'
how convienient,
how coincidental,
how ironic,
and other clever words like that.
swaying in time to the melody,
i close my eyes and pretend you're here,
listening to this song,
sharing my warm, unappealing beer,
enjoying the jazz,
taking my mind off those havoc wreaking thoughts,
at 3am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am telling ya, you remind me again of Bukowski with this one. Check him out if ou have not already (Charles Bukowski) . Keep at it. Darrell Rohling