Slap-Drunk Sojourner

"But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave." Milan Kundera

 

Slap-Drunk Sojourner

 

I

 

My handsome Satan has slipped into a drunken abyss

which opened at the center of the sofa.

 

My bandages are soaked through and through,

my face looks like a purple sack of golf balls.

 

I will limp toward the dazed sunset like a hero

fresh from the fray…

 

as soon as I light his gas-soaked clapboard world aflame.

 

I hope he burns slowly

F

o

r

e

v

e

r.   

 

II

 

I know nothing of what awaits me,

but it feels beautiful to walk alone.

 

Colors of heaven light my face.

Flames of Hell warm my back.

 

III

 

Guess my disease was curable afterall.

I wonder what whole people do on days like today.

Reviews

[ju]

a disturbing little number. "I will limp toward the dazed sunset like a hero / fresh from the fray… / as soon as I light his gas-soaked clapboard world aflame." toward heaven, away from hell. interesting how the flames seem (to me) to be putting a stop to hell & torment. i'm bringing all my own baggage along for the read. self-catering i guess. great poem. enjoyed, cheers.

[Kenneth The Poet]

This is excellent. Strangely enough, I wonder if the non-believers are closer to God than the believers are.

[E.H. Monroe]

HA. you brilliant b*****d/.
Very few can walk in their own poetry with as much style as you do.
Some poeple write to reflect the world
you write to reflect your part in it.

Aces you d****e, Aces
Love,
Velma