Man With The Silver Flask Poem by Raj Dronamraju

I am unconsciously yours, lemon meringue pie
That floats on hypothetical fancies like
If the angels had scars, would they try to hide them?

Save me from her infernal nagging, eternal nagging
The internal life is never lagging
And hurriedly passes each benchmark like I wish all my senses could leave you behind

Never seen, never me
And I take with friendship the surreptitious alcohol he passes
In a silver flask like a 1930's gangster or bigwig

Bolt upright in an unfunny farm
Wondering how is it I can never free myself from the burden of people
The detestable clawing grasp of people

I take a swig of whiskey and pass the flask back to him
Not my favorite alcoholic beverage, it is alright just as everything else is alright
Not much you can do for an allergy to humanity