The Elusive Bitch

(The Blacked Out Poems #4)

I spy the end of this day with no regret.
Let’s forget, let’s forget what made it so unkind.
So much worse it could have been
looking back on it now.
But how? But how?
My pen meets this paper and thus we’ll go on.

You have to look at these things
as a cosmic joke.
It’s too much to handle
with the serious slant.
When you lay awake and
that elusive bitch is
doing her eluding,
you examine too much
and then you die.

Must I rely on the amber
dumbing agent for sweet salvation?
Forgetfulness, something I could
stand more of.
My anxious amblings melt
away,
the elusive bitch finds you
in your haze.
Deliverance comes
in that yellow glass.

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