One poem closer to equaling July’s date. Can I make it? Not extremely pleased with some of these offerings, but they’re passable, and they’re certainly authentic: I don’t have time to dress them up!
Morning, I'm full of
promises seldom kept.
Game show brilliance
gives way to cartoon
gibberish. Soulful
insight yields to
hard-hearted logic, then
to weepy emotions.
Gemstone in morn's
peeking sun. If flaws
perfect diamonds, I
must be priceless.
26/100
Angry
Drunk
Driving my pickup,
Six-pack beside me.
Timing my throws to
Hit empties into the
Truck bed. Blind, thinking
Endless thought loops.
Years later.
Angry drunk.
Driving miles while still
Sitting in my chair.
Still timing my throws
Of empty thoughts to
Capture blind thinking:
Endless thought loops.
More years
Still angry.
Still drunk.
Tired of driving
Mental miles worn
Deeply in my mind.
Emptied soul tiring
Of postured thinking:
Break my thought loops.
13/100
all the voices in my head 