Poetry Dispatch No. 19 | October 26, 2005
early am existentials by t. kilgore splake
one more morning awake, alive during the soul’s darkest hours, hangover tremors threatening, fiery raw nerve ends throbbing, slept in cloths stench, aftermath of “fuck it” drinking alone in early afternoon into late night shadows, old “poor-it” pondering early morning starter to maybe clean, clear the senses, on the way to writing a poem, scalding black coffee wasting kitchen sink silverfish population, ethers awakening a yeti, skulking somewhere in sewer labyrinth, hot caffeine fine vapors cooling chilly whispers, hem, brautigan, jack, abbey chorus declaring it “muzzle in the mouth morning,” purring, “come on over,” trying to decipher voice, message from sink’s drain, ominous “chugs and glugs,” weighing possible results of drano flush, wondering if time to reinvent new literary game plan, try again to define spirituality, or attack the old canon typer and make creative smoke,
maybe just lay back and hope for one more day.
from TAILINGS by t. k. splake, Thunder Sandwich Publishing