We used to meet at this
enclosed bus stop.
Glassed in, like a
blurry-eyed goldfish.
Diesel morning sadness.
We were drunks, dead, and
still dreaming.
There was Chuck, Dog,
Lefty
Lucky
and Beth.
We shared our minuscule
amounts of liquor, and sang
old Motown favorites.
"Mama said there'd be days
like this."
These were the days of the
drunk and debauched.
Liars and lovers, partakers
in this waddling life.
Shattered days and fractured
nights.
We shadowboxed with the
sun, and pretended tomorrow
was a century away.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2025 19:19
- Comment from author about the poem: Hello everyone. I am pleased to announce the release of my latest book, Sleep Always Calls. It's available on Amazon. Here's a link. https://www.amazon.com/Sleep-Always-Calls-Thomas-Case/dp/B0F7FS5DQB/ref= A friend wrote a nice blog post about the book. Here's a link. https://www.thomaswcase.com/post/unveiling-the-poetic-rawness-of-life-a-deep-dive-into-sleep-always-calls?fbclid=IwY2xjawKKKTBleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBicmlkETFqMGR2WHB2TVFTa3NIWGZuAR4zpSjb4uBfbRXRxB6EIzKKFJiVH-j2W3UwhDUXghsruem93MHEIqYaXevsNQ_aem_UJMFy3xBxVz_bBewDlYdeQ My website is www.thomaswcase.com
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
Offline)
Comments1
Another great poem of yesterday and days of living for the moment
Thank you, my friend.
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