Drunken Texas Storm Poetry

We should see if after drinking a
Whole lotta very strong barley wine
Poetry floats to the surface of the brain
Flowing, floating and flowing, spilling over
Like something not unlike vomit
Onto this big blank Xanga screen
While meanwhile deep in the bowels of a
Very powerful Texas storm
Several possible tornadoes, potential tornados
Tornadoes that are still just spinning air in a cloud
March insistently toward where this would be poet
Types these alcohol infused words
Wondering, hoping, praying for something so totally exiting
That it will rivet his readers here to this place
Hanging on every word, breath suspended
Waiting to find the symbols of meaning in these lines
To tell them whether there is life or death
After drunken Texas storm poetry

this stuff is to blame

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