Dark Poetry Prose Poetry wApril 8, 2006 Dark Poetic Prose

04-08-06 saturday 9:53pm

please remove the empty cup. otherwise i'll keep trying to drink from it. as long as it's there. as hollow as it is. unconsciously drawing it to my lips. over and over. as many times as i find nothing there, moments later i try again.

don't have anything kind to say to anyone anymore. she calls sometimes. not often. and we chase each other's tails for awhile instead of our own.

it's just a camera without any film in it. you take the pictures, but it can't make them. so i follow the echo of the strobe light in my vision. as it scurries off into distance. looking passed because at is too real.

if only things were different, but they never are.

4-08-06 saturday 10:56pm

The lighter, I asked, Zippo or Bic?

It's what I'm smoking, not how I got it lit, he said.

The yellow lines, I asked, solid or dashed?

It's doesn't matter. I'll pass whomever is in my way.

You are the highway and I am only an exit. I have nothing to offer except boredom.

Why don't you ever turn the radio on while we're driving? Why don't you ever try to listen to something besides your own thoughts.

Aren't we driving too slow. We'll never get there. You don't even want to. You're just stalling. Toes teasing the gas.

There's a posted speed limit for every life.

There's always a stop sign when all I want is to go.

I hate changing lanes. All my mirrors lying. Telling me we're close.