Poetry and Porkpie
- Catherine Valleroy
- Mar 30, 2021
- 1 min read
Updated: Apr 1, 2021
His beard dripped
Bourbon tears--
Exquisite droplets,
And clinking ice.
The smell of alcohol
In his words—
It takes one to know one.
Damn your blue toothed wolves
And Worm Moon,
Damn your drama
And strapped arms
And needles and spoons.
Who the fuck are you?
Tell your own story
Don’t hang on their gallows.
Tell your own story
Devoid but true.
Tell your own story
Without imbibing the pain
Of their last acts.
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