When My Heart Crash Lands, What Memories Will Survive?
If I fail any class I fail out of college. I wouldn't bring this up if I wasn't close to failing a class. So, this could be a big fat waste of time. We'll see.
In other news people loved this poem. So I submit it in case my computer crashes and I need to find it again.
"DWI and the QC"
The crisp pop and fizz from the 24
Delays the ignition of horsepower.
The metal tongue pushes into the mouth
And foam begins to creep toward the lip.
The last flickering lights of day
Illicit hallucinations when
Each view into the rear mirror
Is the flashing blues of a trip to jail.
But we're young,
And dumb,
And invincible.
We're in thought,
Intoxicated,
And in the moment.
The nerves of steel
And hands full of aluminum
Both crunch hard,
As the siren wails by us.
"London's Burning" is dialed up to counteract
The fire engine across the double yellow lines.
A car crash of metal gets
Dumped from the window
And tumbles down the road
Like the sun behind the Cricket Arena.
Two more hisses and metal
Tonguing the top of tallboys.
The twin eyes on the left
Remind us to lower our open containers.
The Clash bleeds out into the air
Fighting the law in our own way,
Not with a six gun, but with a six pack.
A culmination of six months spent
Concentrating on keeping between painted pavement.
In ten hours, I'll be going,
But going isn't gone and
Gone isn't forgotten.
The personal rebellion
Marks another closing chord in this song.
Another Crown-Town letdown
Six months of failure wrapped
Around the wheel and PBR.
Six months of memories spent
Like dollars and cents
On another stupid idea.
In other news people loved this poem. So I submit it in case my computer crashes and I need to find it again.
"DWI and the QC"
The crisp pop and fizz from the 24
Delays the ignition of horsepower.
The metal tongue pushes into the mouth
And foam begins to creep toward the lip.
The last flickering lights of day
Illicit hallucinations when
Each view into the rear mirror
Is the flashing blues of a trip to jail.
But we're young,
And dumb,
And invincible.
We're in thought,
Intoxicated,
And in the moment.
The nerves of steel
And hands full of aluminum
Both crunch hard,
As the siren wails by us.
"London's Burning" is dialed up to counteract
The fire engine across the double yellow lines.
A car crash of metal gets
Dumped from the window
And tumbles down the road
Like the sun behind the Cricket Arena.
Two more hisses and metal
Tonguing the top of tallboys.
The twin eyes on the left
Remind us to lower our open containers.
The Clash bleeds out into the air
Fighting the law in our own way,
Not with a six gun, but with a six pack.
A culmination of six months spent
Concentrating on keeping between painted pavement.
In ten hours, I'll be going,
But going isn't gone and
Gone isn't forgotten.
The personal rebellion
Marks another closing chord in this song.
Another Crown-Town letdown
Six months of failure wrapped
Around the wheel and PBR.
Six months of memories spent
Like dollars and cents
On another stupid idea.