“The mountains are calling, and I must go.” —John Muir

flahute

Poetry Friday

» by flahute in: Word Play on November 23rd, 2007 at 19:41:54 UTC |
11.22.63

Aldous Huxley
was given his
last mescaline trip
by his wife
before he died,
just
3 hours after
JFK was
assassinated in
Texas

and no one even
noticed that
he was
gone

including
himself

 drunk on poetry

sitting here,
1:46 a.m.,
drunk on poetry
and sleep,

hoping for a
mailbomb of poems,
from god
or myself
or you,
to go off in my hands.

my pockets are
empty and lonely;
except for my shadow.

the sky is
empty and lonely;
except for the stars.

and the pickled moon
spreads through
the window

to the
end of the room.

empty and lonely, too;
except for me.

  — justin.barrett

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