Why am you drunk

Wrote this when I was drunk! And it's about being drunk! and it's NOT THAT GOOD OF A POEM!

There I go again. Getting drunk enough to say whatever is on my mind.
a monkey in a man's body.
Be a human.

Be a man.

Be a man, and kick some ones a*s!
Yea! I'll bet chicks dig that! Strong mussel man that can kick a*s and rape b*****s!

That wasn't funny...... Girls need a tender hand after all......

Am I live or am I memorex?
(insert witty statement here)

I'm sick of me. I'm sick of putting myself on stage, and I'm only now starting to get sick of writing poems when I'm drunk. STOP THAT! You don't need to make anyone laugh!

If I really was a great poet I would be famous by now.

 

And the poets of the 50's grabbed me kicking and screaming into an alley I never imagined a 1950's image going. Booze, dope, needles, and orgies. My 12 year old mind couldn't take it!.......... or could it?

 

(clears trough to read eulogy)
And so in our minds and in our hearts the archetype of Downing sits in the back of the room, talking to himself, making goofy faces, and setting his papers on fire. We may never know where this strange spirit has come from or where it will go next. Who cares? We don't need to anything know beyond what he did this life which was sit in the back of the room, talk to himself, make goofy faces, and set his papers on fire. And so Asa Downing we commit you to the sea.

Cigarettes to ashes.

Bowl to dust.

Author's Note

Ignore spelling.
My portfolio can be found at asadowning.com