Thursday 21 April 2011

Lubnaig

There's a mountain in my mirror,
but no face
I am off of it.
A thousand empty scotch bottles
dotted about the floor
and beer cans fill my bed.
At least, that's how it feels
in my liver, in my head;
everything aches
especially my feet
but it's impossible to care
when the world looks as it does
right here from my porch.



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