soaked sheets

ringing in the new year is the prohibitions dream come true
the soaked sheets coem through the hole in the sky, dripping and stained with the bottle n a half
weighing a ton more than they should, making a path all the way to the washer
the smell rising higher n higer
im gettin intoxicated,
trippin over my own shoes,
smacking the table wiht my knees
becomign the Captain of the laundry room
nothing too celebratory there of course
bottle shattering over bottles, bottle caps slicing flesh
mixing red wiht the sheets
cussing adn chanting rythme together
and down it sinks, deeper adn deeper into ur system till its all its own creation
conbtroling your body, fears and emotions, liekt he puppeteer who cried at
the atheists funeral
the puppeteer who cried as communism fell
and shattered.
the old man crippled adn decaying in the vast emptyness that was his theatre, his nature adn manhood all crumbling like the berlin wall.
now sleep my little drama kidd, sleep and let the bombs adn gunfire rock you to sleep