the drunken genius
I’ve lost it and I can’t go on. I forgot what I, you know, I thought about it, and it was a beautiful vision, my personal masterpiece, like sex, you even balanced iambic pentameter and everything, you know, the works, now it is gone, I forgot it…the topic… It was the best it coulda ever been…I don’t wanna ever write again, if it’s not included, no more you know, the bestest, it’s lost, hook, line, now I’m the Sunker!
But I shant let it be, nowhere but up, someone wiser wrote, show me a sane guy and he’ll be insanely cured…drink me up mates, bartenders keep it comin another, to be or not I be…while I rest my head on this wooden bar top, soft. Coulda shaped it like clay into a French quatrain or pantoum,
and it woulda been big like:
Ask not, what you, so I can do you for!
Hey do you guys have onion soup?
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Alan Salé
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