How to Handle John Scotch

i measure my weeks in bottles of scotch

my days in packets of weeds

my hours by glasses of black

collecting precious

my precious

labeled seeds of passion

misplaced ambitions

ambitious

cries for freedom!

i measure my time with reason and rhyme

these gypsy word crimes and unintelligible

breaks from character

lacking talent

full of momentum

"if you cry about a nickel you'll die about a dime" Rob Johnson

flow damned like a river

of poison

deadly in small doses

i am saturated

come closer

i work for adrenaline

i am a masochist

i don't even drink

Author's Note