Liquor Reflection’s Augury by Allen Masterson

I’m feeling bellicose at the bar.
Bile rising as I reflect on violent acts
in an intrepid, drunken state staring faithlessly
into a liquor reflection’s augury.
I can’t take heed of my pituitary.
My chakras are twisted, folded, flipped
in a kind of cosmic anarchy.
I’m a masticated mass a liberal might look upon with
sympathy.
She held me once, naivety between the sheets.
Winter sparked in midnight’s comforting delusions.
We had to work in the morning, every morning.
The hive needed honey, and we needed money.
Big Brother’s eye passed from wallet to unsated
wallet;
keeping tabs on our limitless greed.
She left before the holidays,
and I got to know the god Lexapro.
He held my hand as we walked through the land
of prostitutes, pimps, and parasites.
My heart skipped cocaine beats
in a hotel named after the the mother of Christ, or
his wife….
I’ll have to qualify that with a gnostic.
I finally fell in slumber filled with benzo-klepto
dreams;
where everything I stole was blue,
a melancholy hue, that always seems to be my theme.
Eventually, I robbed a pharmacy;
thought justified by my hijacked psyche.
Now, I’m in Montana fleeing the law
and feeling bellicose at the bar.
Bile rising as I reflect on violent acts
in an intrepid drunken state….

Jaria

is a poet/writer as well as an abstract artist. He writes on a lot of different issues depending on what is in the press and what he feels is important. His main influences are hip hop and people who struggle and overcome adversity.

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