Don’t Go to a Bar

Don’t Go to a Bar, poem, steven james humphreys

Don't Go to a Bar. you don't have to go that far. you'll find people like me there hiding behind thickened skins. don't get in a car. a bar is a bar is a bar... no matter if it's rock and roll, country or a classy piano bar. no one escapes the light of day … Continue reading Don’t Go to a Bar

It’s Night Time

night time, driving down the road, alone, lonely, depressed, drunk

It's night time. Driving Down the Road, you got no one. Driving Down the Road, it's night-time, you're such a gone one. listening to the Doors squirmin' like a toad. you're the only one left in town awake. look up to the sky. your darkness come long. cold air's blowin' down your neck. it's overdue. … Continue reading It’s Night Time

Sitting drunk on a circus pony

drunk, circus pony, circus closed down, poetry, steven humphreys

I've reduced my stature to a midget sized clown sitting drunk on a circus pony a balancing act the bottle on my head sipping intoxicant eating a sandwich full of baloney with a solemn frown goin' round and round tigers and elephants abound listening to sounds no telling of Mr. ringmaster yelling in the middle … Continue reading Sitting drunk on a circus pony

Driving

driving, drinking, alcohol, poetry, steven humphreys

Driving my rig driving driving thinking like a rock conniving conniving not thinking drinking sleeping weaving high fiving this earth I'm leaving dying telephone poles passing crying stars and sparks fuel line broke flames and smoke rising trees ablaze passing cars lead foot pedal molten metal one cryer's maze choking croak raw deal burning in … Continue reading Driving

Withering away in Winogaritaville

wine-garitaville, poetry, steven humphreys

Livin' in Spain a lot (drinking 'shots' while humming my old tune...) withering away in winogaritaville man it's H  O  T! pouring insane jalapeno sauce (like gravy) over half-baked tater tots temperature risin' connectin' all life's obscure dots one rusty robot playing slots like one 'hot shot' I'm so... N  O  T stomach tied in … Continue reading Withering away in Winogaritaville