Sunday, November 11, 2007


too many enemies to count
horizon dotted with armored horses and savage men

they spit and curse my name
a lone man in the middle of an unnamed land

my tribe slaughtered
my honor is what keeps my feet grounded
and my weapon by my side

lost cause
time stood still
i held my ground

they charge with their weapons drawn
and spill my blood into the hot sand

my lineage lost
last in line to the afterlife

my tequila hangover

bad words on 11/11/07

i heard myself praying to God so he could stop the world from turning.
or maybe twist the world the same way as my head.

too many shots in the head
felt like a concussion
checking my scalp for any contusions

what a weird and warp world I've wandered into.
every step felt more like jelly climbing up my body

that journey to the top of the stairs seems like an eternity.
I think i had my eyes closed the whole time.

sleeping was not an option
dry heaves and spinning ceilings
were in the menu for tonight

next morning the spinning permutated into piercing pain.
i rather have the vertigo back.
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