after

the morning after
is,
the morning after.
if the boys last night
looked me up and down
it's because mother always said,
don't let them see your frown.
they don't now.
so we pranced and played for them
tucked roses in our wilting hair
made a great show
(like we didn't care.)
drank vodka
like champions.
but there's a girl who plays with matches
between her matchstick fingers
and went a bit cross-eyed.
i woke up in her orange bed
with my make-up stripped
from my dizzy head.
i can't decide
if it's your face that i love
or your insides.
i would so love to seize my life,
not fill them
with zombie days
and half-hearted affairs
of the mind.
the world spins by.
while i sit around
gorging on romance novels
and popping hair-growth pills.
by the window
instead of painting
just leaning on the dirty window-sills.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

seizing a life...I see you've got the concept...it's actually a doorway, but you've got to walk through it...

[W.k.kortas]

The rhyme and the short lines give the piece a staccato, almost playful feel--and there is, as the piece speaks of "boys" and girls who "pranced" and "played", a certain tangible playfulness to the piece--but there is also wistfulness and even melancholy here as well. It is an almost perfect mix of emotional content and craftsmanship.

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

There seems to be questions about what this person should do wit their life, but there is also a tremendous sense of self. You imagery is great, but having that kind of self knowledge always blows me away. Especially, at such a premature age. Impressed as always..I am.