The Lawyer/Creep Part 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I've had good days.
I've had bad days.

Submitted: August 09, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 09, 2015



The Lawyer/Creep Part 2


The organs of these subterranean Vodka bars expose too much,

Of their brick-grey skeletons and decaying insides.


“Barman, don’t feed me the gelatinous hiatus.

Let me feast on the flesh.

It’s Happy Hour time.”


I ghost through the streets down by the Vistula in the lemon yellow sunshine,

Getting drunk on my own solitude,

Praying for the atmosphere to collapse in torrential rain,

And wash me away.


Hungry for the afterbirth,

You demonise your situation,

A trial whilst walking a crooked mile,

Would be rapist. Joyless wanderer.


You’ve bought and sold.

You’re getting old.


The reason is that wherever you go in the world,

They will not accept the man with two faces,

A creepy magic trick flash of crepuscular neon eyes and it changes,

One happy, and one sad.


Lighten up,

Brighten up,

Tighten up,

Get another drink down,

It’s a distillation process,

Of a dead poet soul.



I can’t change.


I can’t change.

Kiss me goodbye.

I can’t change.

In a back to front death,

You need to celebrate. 

© Copyright 2019 Elliot Borges. All rights reserved.

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