|
This is not new orleans |
|
No party in my head |
|
I want to take a bottle |
|
From the barroom to my bed |
|
I want to know the flavor |
|
Feel the stinging on my tongue |
|
See the scattered dumbness |
|
Of another evening left undone |
|
This is not poetry |
|
This is depravity |
|
This is an outrage |
|
This is unsavory |
|
I am escaping |
|
My home trappings |
|
It takes an old man |
|
To bend a sapling |
|
Do not wait |
|
Do not ponder |
|
What goes on here |
|
Goes on up yonder |
|
Ghastly mask |
|
Shape undone |
|
A human pile |
|
Of hair and come |
|
This wicked man |
|
Has become unwise |
|
A silhouette |
|
Between her thighs |
|
We are now going |
|
We are not growing |
|
Anymore, anymore |
|
Wipe your mouth |
|
The bottle's empty |
|
Urinate upon the tree |
|
Into the lake |
|
You threw the house key |
|
Your mistake |
|
Their morality |
|
Sleeps with the fishes |
|
Dirty dishes |
|
There lays the vessel |
|
On its side |
|
Sleeps with the fishes |
|
Dirty dishes |
|
There lays the vessel |
|
On its side |
