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 Oct 2013 Sinai
Jami Samson
How many more shots of Jack Daniel's
Will you pour over that glass
Half-full of Coke
And half-empty of enough
Until you get enough?
The sadness in your silence
Makes it hard to tell if you're paying attention
To the voices you hear
Or the thoughts you listen to,
And the more glasses you empty,
Objects you slam intentionally,
And songs you let speak for you,
The more you show the lonely twenty-something
Or more
Is better than the icy spirit I first met
Escaping his bottle
Back in that car ride I will now always remember,
For if it weren't for it,
You wouldn't be good as drunk now,
Sober enough to finally say out loud
What you've been screaming about quietly
In that seat you never sat on
In spite of the last few hours you stayed with us
And the only two or three times you excused yourself out,
And I hope somehow we really did do something
To make you feel better
Or better yet stop you
From feeling at all
For at least a little while,
But I'm pretty sure you only saw us
As a good excuse to finally
Take that bottle of Jack Daniel's
Out of your sight of misery
From that shelf where it was placed
To do you the most good.
So I'll leave you my cheeseburger,
In case you need a reminder
Of the moment you once had company
In that emptiness you call a condo unit,
That will last long enough
Until the next time we say goodbye,
And by then I just might try
To leave something other than
Cold food and disappointment
Upon my answer of “I don't like them”
To your question of whether or not
I know of Backstreet Boys,
And instead provide a better cheerer-upper,
Like a good song or advice or poem,
Than a bottle of Jack Daniel's.
#44, Oct.27.13
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Tim Knight
Sex
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Tim Knight
***
Experience true love and proper death
in a single moment lasting longer than the average breath.

Feel every emotion under the fake-tan-sun-lamps
for the price of a walk and the Queen's head upon a stamp.

Talk about conversations you had in corridors with ex-girlfriends
with a clouded look back, blurred by your own camera lens.

Preach your side of the debate, recite Wikipedia pages,
listen and retaliate dangerously with more stolen words.

Holding hands under bedsheets and duvets and borrowed blankets
means absolutely nothing, like rain falling around those dog days.

Hot days and cold days and no days and everydays are the final lap,
finish, breath, throw up bits of sick and leave the stadium lonesome.

Walk away when the light is right
so the rings around your eyes look like jovial creases
instead of broken bits of I didn't last long pieces.
from COFFEESHOPPOEMS.COM
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Harry J Baxter
She said she wanted an adventure
trekking through the Mexican desert with six shooters
the Lone Ranger and her Kemo Sabe
she wanted to pack her bags
hit the road without a second glance to spare
take the Greyhound bus
or maybe her dad's Jetta
and open it up across endless highways
until the tires are stripped bare
and the exhaust smokes
she wanted to be a stranger
in a strange town
with a cardboard sign reading
    Anywhere but here
mostly she just wanted to escape
the chill of all the old ghosts which haunted her
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Lily Gabrielle
Who broke the rules,
Who broke your heart?
Why was the counter so sticky?
Even more beautiful in the rain
Or in the madness between your lungs.
Who broke the rules,
Who said it first?
Does it count if I lied through my teeth.
One rose for us all
But someone got there first and stole them all.
American as it seems it's still unfair.
Thank you for teaching me the sorrow in solidarity.
If the palm of your hand could cleanse each sin
blood would cover my body.
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Phoenexx
Your face is unfamiliar, you are not.
You rescued me from the explosion,
cavalier, confident in your strength;
let me win ages later,
just as triumphant.

I once saw you drink yourself lonely
under a shadow of
never had and couldn’t see.
I was there.
The breath on your neck
whispers of admiration in your dark,
that was me.
You were so old back then.

I lost you somewhere between
seventy and seventy,
hidden between so many doors;
saw you in strangers I should have
never known and believed
I’d dreamed you up
after all this time.

I may still have.
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Phoenexx
The event
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Phoenexx
“There’s nothing to do but laugh,” she said.  Her voice was sterile like the room holding us.
She smirked and cried instead.

“Trust.”  She rocked her head, lamenting the word.  “I should have listened to myself.”

I agreed but wouldn’t tell her.

She felt her body, hugged where it was, then stared.  “So this is what shock feels like.”

It wasn’t until she threw up.

That night, the nothing ate through her eyes.  
She breathed. She lived. She sat. She thought.

I was afraid of breaking her trance, reminding her of what made her stop time.
I couldn’t follow her into the void.  
I can’t understand what scared her.  
I don’t know how to fix it.
So I sit with her in timelessness. I cradle her hand and focus on how she smells.

"Tomorrow," I said.  "Tomorrow, we'll wake up, and the sun will shine, and the breeze will kiss your face.  We'll spin around the sun again, just like before."

"That's what I'm afraid of."
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Megan Grace
P.s.
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Megan Grace
Always I am
waiting
waiting
waiting
for the right time
to tell you all the
words I have stored
behind my teeth
and in the pockets
of all my sweaters.
It's just that I'm so
sure the sun speaks
out of your mouth,
that you will be the
only person who will
swallow my sentences
immediately after I've
said them so they
don't have time to
float away into
outer space where
Pluto and all of my
other lost loves are
orbiting. My
greatest fear is that
you'll stop holding
me like my hands
are made of the
Milky Way and
instead like the
love I'm capable of
giving you is simply
measured with the
spoon I use to stir
my peppermint tea.
I have stumbled
tripped
tumbled
into the atmosphere
of your smile, been
dragged under by the
waves of your breath
on my neck in the
earliest hours of
the morning. I ask
only that you keep
loving my arms that
aren't strong, keep
watching me like I
taught the sky how
to make rain
(because I'll never
stop watching you
that way.)
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Arantxa
3AM
 Oct 2013 Sinai
Arantxa
3AM
At 3 am I wrote you
a letter, because I
craved you so hard.
Ironically you did
the same, but
only to say I am
too complicated to
be loved.
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