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Crumbling Bars Of Mexico

Oh, the blurring lights speed down the freeway of my mind,

I cross the misty asphault fog,

To the lot of twisting, broken dreams,

My burning emotions twirl and dance with the sloshing shots of tequila,

I stumble into the crumbling diners of Mexico,

And I honestly cry,

“Oh me mystic poets!”

And the trickling of the luiqor,

Crackling into the glass cups of my refuge,

Oh how comforting is that sound,

How comforting is the sight,

Of my drunken, smokey degenerates,

None are more poised,

None more litterate,

None more miserable than I,

Oh drive it home my brothers!

Drive it home!


A contest entry

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Comments


  • XxAmongtheBrokenxX
    March 2

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    I really like this! My favorite lines are 1-4 because of the great imagery you used and I must say that this is the first poem that I have ever read about a poet in Mexico, so congrats for originality.

    Thanks for entering the contest and good luck!