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Friday, June 5, 2009

The Unruly Barfly

The Unruly Barfly 11-6-07

The Unruly Barfly flaps its wings, creating a general flurry
Plops itself into the thick amber liquid of denial and lost memory
Swimming in delusion, basking in the glow of superficial joviality
The Unruly Barfly surrenders itself to the shallow existence of intoxicating slumber
Hoping to the end that this liquid anesthesia to life’s pain will last longer than reality…
And knowing it will not.

For tomorrow will come and the Unruly Barfly will open its eyes to the sober experience of living
Ill equipped to handle the bright light of morning, the Unruly Barfly, bleary-eyed, covers its head and prays for the cloak of night to hide its secrets and sins
For the Unruly Barfly never really learned to fly at all.
It crawls through life, grabbing what it can, to take it from one moment to the next
Using and discarding those around it to justify its own painful existence.

And so night comes.
And once again the Unruly Barfly flaps its useless wings, and plunges into another lost memory