| Drunk Author: |
BlazingTheNightAway |
| Description: |
This probably isn’t a good poem to post here. Plus it takes up three pages is MS word. That is usually a pretty good sign of a poem that isn’t worth reading. |
| Location: |
Azerbaijan |
| When: |
12/14/2011 11:10:39 PM |
| de comment: |
coming soon |
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| The Children In The Lace |
Last night I wrote a poem
About the children who had been
Making lace all day
In cramped quarters
That�s what some kids
Used to do
They called them lace houses,
Not the kids,
The places where all they did was
Make lace 15 hours a day
Now the kids are told by their lesbian
Mothers to tell Michelle Bachman
That their lesbian mommy
Is not broken and does not need to be fixed
And we are supposed to fall for the contrived bullshit,
Many people do. Bet their weed dealer�s text them back
Can�t say the same for me
Wine has a whole lot of calories
And I am passed my expiration date
So I really prefer weed,
Every day, or at least many days I have a cycle
To repeat. For instance, today I woke up late
I had an appointment with a psychiatrist
That my therapist told me to make
So I could get on anti depressants
Even though I am not depressed every day
I am more unmotivated, but that is because
Nothing changes, at least not for the better
Its hard to be motivated when you are past your expiration date
And have no one and realize this is not going to change
Because at this age, all there are all men with breasts
And soft white guts who say shit like:
�that orgasm was so satisfying,
That I really need to go to sleep right now�
I don�t really want to call people who say that
Men. It seems insulting to men to do that,
Anyhow, these same gross guys
Also look through the Tupperware
In my refrigerator, use my bathroom
For prolonged periods of time,
Buy me books I throw away
After they leave.
They take the books into the bathroom
With them, then say they do not want to borrow
The book they have just given me, because they
Plan on reading it every time they come over
And use the bathroom just to prove to themselves
How comfortable they feel using my bathroom.
This is why I throw the book away
And never talk to them again.
So the cycle to repeat
Is not going to the psychiatrist,
Instead I just go to work late,
And all day in the back of mind
All I can think about is how the weed dealer
Won�t text me back. I am just a woman with
$240 in her nightstand drawer who wants to buy
Weed from a dealer who lives three blocks away
But won�t sell to me.
Right as I am finishing up my day at work,
The file I am working on is corrupted.
I have just made the file a few hours earlier,
So it has not been backed up.
None of the formulas are saved
And the data is useless
So I call IT and yell at them
And then think of how I will get fired
For yelling at IT all the time.
But it is there sort of their fault for not getting their shit together.
I spend an hour on the phone with the IT guy,
Then have to log into the new environment
And all I can say is that Microsoft Excel 2010
Is poorly designed and the filter feature
Is horrible and cumbersome.
I should mention that the file could only be retrieved
In the 2010 version of Excel, not the 2003 version
That I made the spreadsheet in.
Some jerkoff who does not actually work in Excel
Probably just redesigned it to have something to do
�Look what I did, I added all these features to Excel
That made it more time consuming to use�
That is pretty much what the world is about,
People just fucking things up to feel productive.
So my choices are to yell at the IT guys
Or to put up with it.
I choose to yell at the IT guys.
I really wish I wasn�t running low on weed.
Sobriety hasn�t done a lot for my life
And neither has getting fat on sweet wine.
When I read about the children who make lace,
It reminded me a lot of how being stoned all the time
Is like detaching from the rest of the world. All this time goes by,
And goes far outside any sense of direction I might have once had.
All there is is the weed and the lace. That�s how small the world
Really is for some people. Time is such junk for lives like mine.
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| Author, BlazingTheNightAway |
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