Re: Buk!
Fuck yeah!
Rock music!
Bang heads!
Record it!
Vodka T’s!
Tiled floors!
Some screams!
Sweat pants!
O, scars!
Dive bars!
Skid down
Row town!
Re: Buk!
—
the same
waking up
falling a
sleep, again
bed. Hard pressed
Up, yes. ten
minutes till
work, commute.
Dead. Drivers
wreckless. Fine
alive. Time
passes. Feet
prances. Small
spaces. Clocks
in and out
in the car
speeding down
to some bar
drinking now.
Gonna go
to sleep some
time, watch the
TV on
my phone screen
light, then dark
—
drunk texts
You left me on
Read in the middle
Of a dark room, by
bright light thru a
tunnel, some kaleidoscope apocalyptic
ultra-violescence. The Angel is
a city of palm trees
metro trains & all the
crazies. Delusional, was I?
….typing….Can discourse happen
between two people
over airwaves? send, typing….
Can I ride these
waves to you?send,
typing….Am I in too
deep? send, typing…Do
I look like I’m
breathing to you? typing….
—
Anthony AW (@an__o__) is a writer. His work has been published in Drunk Monkeys, Seafoam Mag, and Vagabond City. He lives in Los Angeles.
