Black Hole
“Now, what was I gonna say? ”
I forgot. It’s gone.
out the window
through the black hole in time
and my head,
like so often
before.
Along with
wallet,
keys
and this month’s
rent.
Hours wasted
around midnight.
As my clock showed a
million to something,
it struck me:
I could be dead
tomorrow
or better off.
Waking up with V.I.P
monster truck tickets,
half empty bottles
of 21 year old whisky
or a younger naked whore
[...] Read more
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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