---rACEcARE

its raining again, the taste of a morning cigarett burns in the cold wind as i wait, a little hung over from a long night of sedation, its now time to get buisy, god that hang over is killing, as if a million little midgets in my head, stomping on the ground within my brain, yelling down the dark alleyways, banging loudly within my ears, was that music loud lastnight or what, you shouldnt have at those brownies, deep inside you knew, stupid rain, so loud on the car as the radio comes to life, feeling as if in a middle of a musical war the tunes are off again, wow, what happened lastnight, oh well the engines on, time to go, time to light another, and begin work, the salt and grime cackle under the tires, look out theres another car.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I know the feeling of midgets dancing in my head too. I never could find a real cure for a hangover. A interesting poem. Sometime only peace is staying in bed. A very good poem.
Coyote

[Sarah McConnaughey]

You described everything well. Hangovers are one reason why I gave up drinking, and I'll never touch drugs.

[Marie Harrison]

Fun, you have to watch out for those sneaky midgets in your head doing a congo! Ha!

[prim]

i really like this, it's interesting and fast-paced. i really liked the simile with midgets, it was really funny :)