Dedrick Estiltaph

The Sober State Of Mind

Is a great place when you're sober.
The birds chiere;
Flowers breethe;
Friends laugh slow,
Sure to make sir it's safe

But enter a tick of salt-lick
and oh dear fellow somethings
we here do not
thinks me hearing clear!
Should the buzz, the clatter,
The ladder? The hate spout/
Hell spawn flirt so LOUDLY!
In other words,
Should I behave like I "escaped"
Or 'let go? "

Choose, and my station
Wagon full of
Clams will swallow
Your lawn faster than mercury
Eats nitrogen.
Quicker than your mother can
Sip a cigarette and
Blame the milkman for his
Incessant "milking."

But, if it's cancer you want,
And I want
Cancer until
I have cancer,
Then I bask you to do give me one more deed.

Five hours to crush a cockcroach and
Days to sleep with crows.
I won't feed them drugs like the last
Inkskeep; start
Them on fire like your brother;
Just love them to the worst of my ability,
Telling them lies
And feeding them gold.

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 6, 2012

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