Insomnia (insomnia) wrote,

  • Music:

Ode for Old Digs

A big victoria studio bedroom, hardwood floors
Columns and window seat near the bed...
Dunhills, vodka, Rose's Lime Juice...
"Two bottles of Sheafs Stout? That will be $6.66..."

And a view out on the street down below, slight opacity...
through the oval of the bay window, overhanging the house
spilling out onto the balcony
"they don't use glass like that anymore, you know..."

improvised ashtrays, incense, a black candle in a Courvoisier bottle,
lying flat back on the warm wooden floor
watching the smoke curl into the light, specks of dust glitter...
"Your cigarette traces a ladder..."

Hanging out with your best friend,
laughing through classes as the day slipped away.
Ideas flew, eyes glinted in the last rays of afternoon,
"Like we have anything better to do..."

Are my aspirations my curse?! My purgatory?
Do I really have anything better to do now, really?
"Will the world end in the daytime? Oh, I don't know..."
If it were only so simple, back that way I would go.


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