Poetry Dispatch No. 19 | October 26, 2005 early am existentials by t. kilgore splake one more morning awake, alive during the soul’s darkest hours, hangover tremors threatening, fiery raw nerve ends throbbing, slept in cloths stench, aftermath of “fuck it” drinking alone in early afternoon into late night shadows, old “poor-it” pondering early morning [...]![]()
