i learned once (or twice)
judgment can be rolled into a ball
& slipped into a back pocket
ignored for the time being
& for me teeters on a balance
between
that third glass of wine
& the fourth
before i’m up for anything suggested
and that falling just
slightly off kilter
might lead to dancing
on the roof
cheering on fools
that are bobbing for apples
in the toilet
& deciding every poet
should try acid
once
& wind up momentarily lost
in the supermarket
like little kids do,
looking for my mother
among all those aisles of things
boxes i have lost the ability to read
& then racing shopping carts
through a parking lot
at 3 a.m.
And what’s wrong with that?
Nothing at all–I just outgrew it
I love this, and understand.
Ugh, I felt kind of busted when I read this, like you had a look at the things I do (mostly did, but ashamedly sometimes do). I struggle to be good.
Hahaha–I used to be a little crazy…glad I am not the only one participating in shopping cart races. Of course, now I am a (mostly) respectable mom, and have been very, very good for the last 12-1/2 years
Cool. Just don’t get too too good on us now.
ooooh I want to party with Susan
lol, I am boring now
yea me tooo.. very very vanilla boring
My my. I’ve lost judgement sober, so there ya go. Still, my party days are only seen in the rear view, and there they stay.
Sigh–me too…
good girl! Smart! xo
Thanks, Deb!
great piece. the acid part i gravitated to. i did that a couple of times. if you care to, i have a piece that reflects that called “flashback ellicit”.
Thanks–will check that out today!
not a poet but i must have hung out with some, cause this sounds awwwwwfully familiar! yikes.
LOL. I think it has to do with life, not so much just poets as a group
It sounds like you know how to court Dionysus just enough to get a hint of the wine and drunkeness of the world.
Yes–just a touch
Now that my kids are grown and I no longer have to be a respectable suit, I embrace my inner hippie. Do you know the Dorothy Parker martini poem?
“I love a martini
But two at the most
With three I’m under the table
With four I’m under the host!”
LOL, I have heard it, and love it! Can’t say I identify personally with the last line–mostly roof dancing and shopping cart races–but if I ever got to 6 without being ill, the possibility exists
poems need craze
Yes, they do!