5/7/10

immortal

he was in a foul mood,
no surprise to me:

"I am going to get drunk,
and stay drunk,
for as long as I can,"
he proclaimed
from his dented pitch
on the sofa;

"well that will only go so long,"
I replied, "seeing as how
your liver and your kidneys
have their limits";

and he said, "screw those
artificial limits, I am
immortal,
and the portal
that I travel through
to meet with you
insulates me,
invigorates me,
ascertains me,
remains me,
and all that I embrace
in this doomed race
as well as all that I
eschew,
throw back at you,
find full of foo,
and slog my crew
with such excrement,
as is heaven-scent:
it is poo-poo,
and like a wild monkey,
it is flung at you";

and I smiled,
in the face of his rant,
as I knew that he would
pass out long before
"would have"
and just shy of
"can't."



April 6, 2010.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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