Fade Away Gently, Lover by Jason Robinson

she was the love
of my life, but
I love her no more
she was a woman
of many names-
hops and grains
distilled potatoes
(cheap) sweet red wine
she was a whore
I wanted be the next
bukowski
henry miller
hemingway
locked in a seamy room
with a bottle
and a notebook
no money
no self-esteem
in the bowels of L.A.
sometimes I could stop
for days or weeks
but she always
seduced me again
back to the liquid
amber death
to the blackouts
the stinking sheets
the extended crying jags
balled up on the floor
in the fetal position
dying on many levels
the hangovers rough
and one cold
carolina winter she got me
the D.T.’s
sweating while freezing
viloent shakes and vomiting
the walls covered
with insects that simply
were not there
for days thinking
that I was dying
I laid my lover to
rest on that frosty day
praying never to be
a ressurection

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