Books & Booze

pile
upon pile
upon pile
of precious materials
stacked high
against the wall
leaning to this side and that
neither here nor there
but sitting still
waiting for their pages to be digested
turned
and devoured
a cheap bottle of whiskey
and two beers
four walls a door and a window
all perfectly inline
90 degree angles will rule the day!
far away
a siren
wailing
after a drunk
swerving in and out of traffic
headed the wrong way
on the highway
alone
in the room with books
and a cheap bottle of whiskey
ingesting the pages
until my arms go limp
and fall upon my chest
book covers spread
like a woman's legs
over my chest
waiting
for me to wake up
and pick it up again
and keep going
until the end
drawing feelings
from these inanimate objects
disliking people more and more
and falling deeper in love
with books & booze
knowing that i can't hide in here forever
having to step out
into the sunlight
from this darkened corner
i forget how to interact with people
and am drawn
to loners
drunks
and crooks
who will never be anything more
than what they are now
i fight with the blank page
every night
i come home and fight with the poem
the short story
and it's always a battle
to get great words
inline
and in check
it's a battle worth fighting for
something tangible
obligatory
and meek at times
but a constant rumble
tumbling out of the tips of my fingers
my brain tissue
my being.