I’m pulling out my hair right now,
the desk’s a fucking mess
Pouring scotch over the ice,
which is here at my behest
Rolling up a cigarette,
I’m shaking like a leaf
Ain’t had sex in sixty days,
in need of some relief
That’s no lady knocking at my door,
it’s the sleep I missed last night
Typing this shit once again,
and one day I’ll get it right
I’m not sad I’m friggen pissed,
my dvd is on the fritz
I won’t see just what she does,
or where she puts her lips
Batin’s something I can’t do,
while writing for your test
The music’s playing so damn loud,
it just seems to be a pest
Naked pictures fill these walls of mine,
what are you friggin lame
And this thong I’m wearin’s ridin up,
and drivin me insane
Screw the strangers and what they want,
they can turn their heads
Soon as I’m done with this last damn line,
I’m gonna lay in bed
Author notes
Questions asked and answered
A contest entry
- 1:01 a.m. by Cinnarry.
8750 points, ended October 10, 2008, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Loved it! Thanks for your entry
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Wonderfuquingful! Don't do scotch or thongs but other than that we're pretty much on the same page
Insomnia's darlings. Oh, the sixty days part.....try six years! Sheee-it, this is funny. Best in the comp!
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rofl rofl rofl rofl! Sheer brilliance!!!!! Wonderful work. Start to end you had me drawn in deep!
ing alone,
Mylee
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Haha. This is a classic. I loved it from the first lines to the last. There is no way I want to try to pick a favorite line.
Excellent job.
Mike
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