Brett Rogers

My Barbra Streisand Christmas - Poem by Brett Rogers

Can you spare some snow?
A little sour flour
To make the pain
Go and go and
Go! …

Plastic yellow Kodaks
Capture everything -

No.23 of 27:
A left nostril full of blow
(allergies own the right)
Knees and hardwood molded
In the shadow of the window.
“Can they see me? ”
Let them watch …

Diarrhea …
Vomit …
And swallows …
Grinded molars,
Dry mouths,
Tired tongues,
Limp dicks ….
Every task now unimportant;
Soul-shaped garbage is set free.
One more bump
And I will float on a sea
Of sober-named evil.
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the dog bites,
When the bee stings,
I know I am alive.
Watch the blood flow,
Watch the skin swell,
Let my desperate smile spread.

* * *

Can you spare some?
To make the pain
Go …

Topic(s) of this poem: addiction, drugs

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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 13, 2015

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