Monday, February 1, 2010

Rummaging through old words.


there was a party going on 
none of us were interested 
we aren't interested by much these days 

taking on a very apathetic way of life
it's not spoken of 
but anyone can tell 

from the slumped shoulders to the muted smiles
my skin never feels clean anymore.
human contact has distilled itself 

to a circle on the floor of a back bedroom. 
but this time it's different 

our heads aren't surrounded by a circle of smoke
the lights aren't dim 
sense of entertainment has now become necessity.

a bottle of jack, the few people who care 
welcome fall 

and this place. 

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