Near Seattle

weather-storm-rain-clouds-tacoma-wa

Well my friends say they can read me like a book,

as I sit and wonder how many pills I took.

On this sad and lonely day up near Seattle;

well I won the fight but I wasn’t in a battle.

I could turn the lights and heat on now,

but that might ruin this sad cold day somehow.

I’ll just sit and think of her, though I don’t know who she is,

as my hopes, my dreams, my head begin to fizz.

 .

On the wings of a pigeon I will fly

to a wind machine I know in Sunnyside.

And I’ll light a cigarette, and it will not get wet,

it sometimes rains there too but it hasn’t yet.

I’ll tell stories to my friends that I still call,

and it won’t matter that they’ve heard them all.

They’ll laugh at all my jokes while I make rings of smoke,

and I’ll buy some Taco Bell because I’m broke.

.

Meanwhile, back up near Seattle,

my head hurts and my breath begins to rattle;

I put my pigeon back on the shelf

and sing love songs to myself…

I could turn the lights and heat on now

but that might ruin this sad cold day somehow.

So I sit down to write my phantom book

and wish I knew how many pills I took.

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Filed under Dark poetry, Poetry

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