Broken Bottles on the Floor
Poem from the book
the flowers quickly wither away amid the pool of bourbon,
as they cannot feed like we did, when we crawled
through the glassy sea to puke in the same toilet at the same time.
sometimes, even smiling at each other while we heaved
and felt the world spinning about like a broken roundabout.
the mornings were the harshest, until the first two beers were downed,
always cold, always there for breakfast,
and we smoked a blunt and the world was once more standing still,
no more spinning about uncontrollably.
we were alright, we held hands, we walked down the street carrying
too many bottles of bourbon, wine, and beer, people thought
we threw parties nightly; they couldn’t imagine we both
despised people, we hated our fellow humans.
we drank inside, to avoid the patrons, not the bars—
the bars were nice, but always filled with empty vessels,
soulless corpses refusing to let go.
we drank, we smoked; we had it all, but money.
eventually, it killed us (you, and me subsequently).
the same streets I’ll never see again, I’ll never stroll
through the old sandy beach, I’ll never sit down on the
damp sand at 4am to light a glass-pipe and share it with you,
as the crackle turned heads and horrified the well-off
we thought we were invincible, the first ones
to beat the monster at its own game; not the first, nor the last,
to play and lose the game of the hungry beast.
and as I light a new glass-pipe, after so many months (years)
of sobriety, I stare into the lingering blue smoke,
searching for your bright green eyes I still miss (even after
seven long dark years of nothingness).
Fueled by bourbon, death, and hopelessness, Bourbon Bottles
and Broken Beds is a collection of disheveled thoughts and words that often made their first appearance on cocktail napkins while hunkering down on barstools and swilling rotgut and draught beer.
The early, premature death of the first love and subsequent attempts to recapture a magic never meant to be experienced again fuels nights of heavy boozing and of abusing the body in attempts to move forward while being surrounded by lost souls peregrinating through life without meaning.
George Gad Economou holds a Master’s degree in Philosophy of Science and resides in Athens, Greece, doing freelance work whenever he can while searching for a new place to go. His novella, Letters to S., was published in Storylandia Issue 30 and his short stories and poems have appeared in literary magazines, such as Adelaide Literary Magazine, The Chamber Magazine, The Edge of Humanity Magazine, and Modern Drunkard Magazine. His first poetry collection, Bourbon Bottles and Broken Beds, has been published by Adelaide Books.
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