Troubleshooting Life

An immediate solution
to my tiresomely consumed existence
would be a short poem
while I sip on a cold beer,
which from my fear of warming up –
tasting unpleasant –
is gulped down my throat,
rather quickly.

The grey clouds paint the sky
in an amusingly dark fashion –
fine strokes of Providence.
The beer is soon to get over,
and so will the words –

I need more beer

(oh no, I would not drink myself to intoxication; I have been intoxicated by your gaze before, and my expectations from intoxication itself have soared to unfathomable heights – not even the finest of ale to have me intoxicated like you have).


Painting by Girls Joanna Pilarczyk.



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