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Poems - Black Label blues

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Black Label blues

by cactusdapoet

Coffee burns
clearing slowly
the cob-webbed
blood shot eyes
of mine
as
I try to recover
from last nights
maddness
in some Mom & Pop
diner
waiting on my egg
and biscut special.

In the corner booth,
slowly grinding
spilt sugar
into the tattooed
flesh
of my fore-arms.

As I pass the time
trying to figure out
just how the fuck
I became the man
reflected back at me
from some chrome
napkin
dispenser.

"My silverware has water spots"

Somewhere in the
midst of this
I see you standing there
watching over me.
I call your name
to make shift business men
and blue collars,
who eye me warningly.
And it seems to me
that you weren't really
there at all.

As the lines between
my reality and fantasies
have become as blurred
as my fucked up life.

So, Just to confuse myself
I sit and talk about the weather
with some homeless guy
named Ed.

"Paper says forty percent chance of rain"

He says to me
as I slip him a buck
to pay for
a cup of coffee.

"I have to piss"

And lose myself
in the poetic verse
scrawled on the restroom
walls.

"Bob was here"

"For good head call"

I pay my tab
stumble out
into the daylight
get lost
in the vastness
of this parking lot
taking five minutes to
find my car

Driving like some
Punch Drunk Boxer
in some lost title fight
through the morning
rush hour
traffic.
Before checking into
the mad siesta motel
with thier free porn
and white linen
sheets.

I lose myself
in the fiendish sleep
of an alcoholic's
hangover.

Awaking to face the fact
that your not here
and that
black labeled bottle.

Damm sure is the reason,

Why.





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