So dark, so dark
here in the black hole of my blackout
It's my own personal hell:
Where the bouncers are demons
under neon bonfires
Where the bartenders are zombies
with infections in their eyes
Where the pretty girls have razors for tongues
They kiss the boys and slice off their faces
then leave them bloody and twitching in a pile by the pool table
while oblivious demi-Gods finger each other in bathroom stalls
And the cave-beast is awake
I can hear him pacing
crunching on the bones of those who have blacked out here before.
It's sure is scary inside my blackout
Another shot bartender please?
Uh - oh,
I think I'm falling off my stool again
Down, down, down
I am on the floor now
How did I get on the floor?
Is this my puddle of vomit I'm lying in?
And the rum-spiders swarm
They drink my puke and eat my eyeballs
And the beezle-bouncers lift me off the floor
They toss me to the cave beast
who rapes me with the femur of Charles Bukowski
and whispers ax-murder lullabies into my ear.
Here is a live reading on the radio of this poem.
(Drunk Thoughts (LIVE and SLOPPY)-- June 1, 2007: My Blackout
Drunk Thoughts was a recurring bit I did for a radio show on Free FM called The Binge. Sadly, the station got bought out, The Binge went on a bender, and Drunk Thoughts landed on skid row.
Thanks to Alicia Champion of Durga Sound for engineering the audio