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not regretting it a bit the next morning

a tinyblog poem. shhhhhh...

I laud the practice of drunken familiarity
remember that everyone in the bar really is your friend

Your eyes
     your ears
          your nose and
your mouth breathing your hot breath into every ear
winning sloppy pool games and
remembering that the bar clock is at least twenty minutes fast


Sump:a real life poem, by nate.




gap. tap.


"thinking"--- exhale. gap.


Tappity tap.

A spiritual materialist, non spontaneous garble of fundamental mental mentality, heap of trash badness, a bad way poem, by nate.

Mind reaches out for a soul to hold
and finds hands empty; the world is bold
and bright, but soon the sun grows cold, the light of color seems so old, and night brings stillness, duller still.

In dullness, sharpness clear as space cuts through that mist and dirt and lace and my defenses, rhyme and ruse:
With quiet footsteps, something moves.

(comingsoon! she's a ninja! a catchygonow pop song by nate! !!!!)