
I used to work under
the guise
of cocaine vodka and speed
the words came out like
a spicket spilling words
Into notebooks filled
With rant and sticky
shot glasses residue
like crop circles
They came and went
But were always there
In some nook or corner
easy to reach at a moments
Notice
and i miss those great days
that were part of my world
With you my mentor sitting
Across the old kitchen table
Butts accumulating in
The old blue ashtray
Your rugged face in
Haze of smoke
“everything to excess.
Nothing for success”
-you laughed when i
Repeated our funny mantra
it suited me then just fine
Life was intense like a
Double edged sword
when the words come to me
now they come more naturally
especially when i smoke weed
or drink some sort of libation
once when younger I
used to write with no sort of
enhancement just Dylan, incense
And a pot of tea
and that was good too-
sorta
when inspiration comes now
it’s like an avalanche tumbling
toward me-if i am not ready
i can get lost in it forever
those are the good days and
there are many of them and
the best days are when my words
are published and i feel real
good
an another successful
poem or a page for my
latest book
i am happy no matter
which way they come
then there are the bad days
That came after my overdose
and coma
My damaged brain spit out amnesia-tic
shit
Have to decipher the good from
The bad the spelling the grammar
The stumbling bumbling mishmash
Clutching my head in desperation
“You can do it” he said “just carry
On as if it never happened
you have it, you just have to find it”
and I would cry for my loss of
Words
wanting to stamp my feet and shake
My head till the letters and words
Came out on the right order.
goodness can come from chaos
sometimes i write words
and discard them
I write
better under the influence
than without
as long as i have a connection
I’ll be just fine.
Just you are no longer there. Ana christy
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