Seeing CoffeeA Poem by Poe Reddperfectly describes last sunday, methinksOnce a week, heartfelt and sickening, the angels in their latest depression, just a step behind the freaks you see on leashes, eyes screaming, we strip the day of its meaning, turn loose the fury of a dead-serious boredom, the glare of the red flashes imagined on our nails. "I've died!" we breathe, loud, and sit down. Then?
Then nothing. We step back out and step in a puddle and step back in and sit. An orange storm sat on the rooftop, a demon was in the distance drinking. Dissapointed, we poked fun at the few that remained, we snarled, we couldn't care. Redeath and Once Again. The storm failed to flood the little old house. The demon never showed. A restless bunch, every limb broken.
"Let's go to Tim Hortans." or, "I need to pee." So, us freaks, walking through oceans crawl into one car. And I, like the Winter's crow, smiling, endure the high trills blasted -but from an awesome system!- in the absense of love and buzz.
My act is payed for in caffeine (everyone else hates the stuff) which, in turn, is payed for by me.
Then nothing. The storm was actually never a storm and no one danced with me in what rain? The demon is actually just a boy and, therefore, is not worth the mentioning. We sit down, sighing softly, and groaning at morons to give "Just one more beer, please?"
"No, I only have four more!" © 2011 Poe ReddAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on November 28, 2011 Last Updated on November 28, 2011 AuthorPoe ReddOntario, CanadaAboutI'm back!! Will update all this nonsense soon. Much new writing to arrive shortly. Not a place for children. more..Writing
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