Wednesday, 5 December 2012

Personal Apocalypse

Your wife kicks you out
and then he moves in.
You gather your stuff,
she said you beat her.
Now he has your tools
and your new truck.

And you can't get it back.

Your brain blows a fuse.
You can't make it work.
Thoughts run amok.
You find a replacement
it matches the amperes.
but things aren't the same.

And you can't get it back.

Your kid starts on drugs
and you hear that she's hooking.
You stop going downtown.
You want your old life.

But you can't get it back.

The booze makes it easy,
bourbon and scotch, then
vodka and pills. The job
it goes south and you
line up for pogy.
When it runs out
you line up for welfare.

You wish you could function,
but you can't.

And you meet someone
who gives you a chance.
Says come on with me,
and you pour out your story
to a room full of people/.
They all nod like they know you.

You'll give it a chance.

She says she likes you
and why not move in?
Her brother can give you a job.
Coffee smell in the morning,
the sun through a shade.
She calls you her darling.

You're glad you never gave up
on this life that you've made.

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