I find it curious that people put an end time on a party invite.
No room to breathe, extraordinarily inorganic.
Restrictive and lacking in color.
Party end times should always remain open-ended.
Don’t you think?
Sometimes my best work is accomplished in the waning energy of a social gathering.
I feel no pressure from the ticking clock as it advances.
My job is to break through that wall, become unmoored, and push all envelopes to the point of excess.
I am the progeny of Bacchus.
In fact, a direct descendent by blood.
Bloodlines, red wines, dancing divine.
Party is my middle name,
and I prefer engagements that weave endlessly onward toward dawn,
then onto brunch, wrapped up in giggling walks of shame.
Debauchery mystifies and beguiles my smiling eyes.
Mischief is to be masterfully made.
Do me a favor if you are having a party,
Have the decency to let the party determine its own life.
Definitely a start time, but the end time should be less finite, and stretch outward like an expanding universe.
Until, there is no light or energy left, but the void of space, and false burping hangovers, punctuated by piercing headaches in search of more excess.
A very special thanks to Sir Christopher Coxen. The future may be queer, but it is certainly bright.
40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam is a project in which people have joined me for 40 days and 40 nights of on-demand poetry. They have submitted the concepts, ideas, and subjects; I’ve done the work.
Welcome to my effort. Yes, as a great procrastinator, it requires great effort to stay focused on something productive that matters to me. I’ll find any old excuse to traipse from project to project, and I rarely end up at the place I started. I find this maddening, and exhaustive. So it is with high hopes, and a greater grasp of self-awareness, that I embark upon staying the course so to speak.
I enjoy writing. Be it blogs, fiction, poetry, etc. I love the craft and the act of creation, the art in and of itself, for it’s own sake and end. I am happy to be able to do it.
Some stats:
Born: March 1974
Education:
St.Francis de Sales, Charlestown MA
Don Bosco Technical High School, Boston MA
University of Massachusetts at Lowell, Lowell MA
Bunker Hill Community College, Charlestown MA
DePaul University, Chicago, IL
North Virginia Community College, Arlington VA
Harvard Extension School, Cambridge MA
Place of residence: Somewhere in the land of metro Boston. It’s vaguely familiar and becoming home more and more by the day, but when you come from “The Town” all else fails by comparison.
Favorite Color: I’m partial to all forms of blue.
Favorite Author: c’mon! don’t expect me to answer that, there are too many.
I enjoy memories of playing 80’s Atari better than playing any advanced gaming system that exists today.
Some day:
Hope to be recognized for my paper clip collection. As well as my 27 rejected applications to Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailiey Clown college.
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One thought on “40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam! – Day 27 – “Low Hopes””
The party always seems to end, everyone disappears, right as I crack a beer and catch my second wind.
There I sit all alone in a room of red solo cups full of forgotten stories and cigarette butts. Just another day. Maybe I’ll find a kitkat somewhere I like kitkats they break the silence
The party always seems to end, everyone disappears, right as I crack a beer and catch my second wind.
There I sit all alone in a room of red solo cups full of forgotten stories and cigarette butts. Just another day. Maybe I’ll find a kitkat somewhere I like kitkats they break the silence