Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow: Each as perpetually empty as this glass. Dry, or dirty, or wet, or vodka over gin— That forsaken day is but an hourglass, Repetitive, and as costly as my sin. Yesterday, and yesterday, and yesterday: This bartop counter did not feel as small. Mixing disparate ingredients was sound, And the names we carved in the bathroom stall Echoed through the ages, the whole world round. If, and maybe, and might, and forever: I shall continue this waking vigil; I shall hold onto the very last taste-view, All of the sensory inputs available; And this martini makes me think of you.
I was starting to read your long reviews but then they disappeared before i could finish. I read the part you said, i should change eyes to gaze to lessen redundancy but 'she felt all gaze on her' just doesn't sound right.. English is only a second language for me but english poets on many siteshave always enjoyed my poems despite the fact they sometimes point out how they are a hodgepodge blend of forms, archaic, modern, technical, vernacular, slang, childish , pun, rhyme, free verse and mor