Poem: Midnight Blues

The clock strikes midnight

and everything begins to feel

empty

careful connections

cast to the wayside

drowned by the sounds

of techno beats

and feelings fostered

by broken boredom

and sexual frustration

I cant stop thinking

about the few who made me

feel something foreign in my body

a lasting latitude of spiritual travel

and no amount of excitement

or pleasure

will ever pierce me like that

so I sit and watch the water

wash over the sand

just like the sex

exactly like the booze

it always washes

back

into the deep, dark sea.

• Amazon
• Instagram
• Facebook