“No more, Nothing, Nevermore”: Poetry Under Inebriation

As a souvenir of last night’s cast party, I have photos of three poems I wrote while drunk. They were all inspired by different household items in our host’s house. While they’re far from my best work, I find them funny — in an intoxicated sort of way.

Two Nonfunctional Dryers and a Half-Working Washer

 

 

 

 

 

 

My clothes wet

and half-clean

hanging outdoors

with last night’s

memories of cum

and booze and the

smell of drying nicotine

that fills the breezy

summer; birds will fly

away and fuck:

maybe they’ll have better

luck than I did:

Forever flying with 2

dryers unlocked failing

to heal the scars of last

night’s summer flings

and no more:

 

No more, forego the

clothesline breezing

in the cool july air

 

Mirror Above the Sink

The mirror stares

   at my hair;

I wash your dishes,

   you motherfucking

bastard as your plate

   overflowing with

   half-eaten potatoes

   and chickpeas

   and plant and

a mouthful of spit

   and forgetfulness

of that one night when you

promised me forever

   but now nothing

Nothing in the mirror

Nothing but me

Staring blankly

                               at nothing

Images Scrolling on a Television

Images of you mock

   me: as I sit with

my seventh glass of

   mixed rhum —

does the taste of cinammon

   mimic the smell of

you lying beside me?

   Does my drunken

state of passing out

   as couples dance

beside me parallel

   you smiling; of you

touching my chest

   and downwards

and the painful

   whisper of “nevermore”

as you bite my ear:

   goodbye images,

goodbye sounds,

   goodbye smells

hello you: o drunk

   image of you