Saturday, August 18, 2012

Writing under the influence: Monologue of the sober and the not so...

Just because...

Everything’s so loud right now. Holy fvcking sh1t! Did the Radioman just say “bloodbath?” I didn’t know they’re allowed to say that on the airwaves?
Why is the clock ticking so loud?
So when else can I hear the drum and bugle corps play at 4:31am?
Jimi Hendrix? Is that you whispering in my right ear? “This is our decision, to live fast and die young”?
The cocks have crow three times now. I hear a dialtone, a radio! So that’s where it’s from!
Should I even dare counting the kukadoodledoos?
When I turn off the lights should I be scared or should I be proud, 4:35 am!
Filtering.
I can’t even hear my father snore? There it is, my favorite rock-a-bye. I can almost picture my morning.
To the old gods and the new, please let me dream of Jim Morrison?
G’nyt!

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