On a cold October afternoon

I dared put pen to page

My empty words amount to nill

Void of passion or rage

What earthly good does result

In a scribbler's trailed ink?

Merely a page now soiled

And an evening leading to drink.

i sit like pawn between two others

another poet and piano man

we sit and think cradling coffee

this stark religion of who i am

they're also writing feverishly

i'm working on a letter

we sit and sip and write

and think;

"Whiskey would be better"

Swig thy burnt amber

As you wait for your din

Swim in the syntax

While i toast you with gin

Lure the verbiage

Down to your plate

Write like a demon

And drink the night's fate -

to strawberry shiraz

from local wineries

to a dry season squelched

as you're taken to the knees

to oatmeal stouts and porter house

and dancing the neon ribbon

no answers at the bottom drink

but the transgression forgiven

Porter, Ales, Sea foam Stout

Let's give shy a ticket out -

Throw me a tux

I'll grease down the 'do'

Pack it down south

For the price of a brew

Smoky, dizzy, spiral room

I'd stack up to any groom......tonight.

to dizziness to topsy turvy

to inflated self esteem

to a swinging blaze of whiskey nights

to echos in your dreams

may we learn from ass kickings

and may we toast tomorrow

within these spirits of heavy still

may we steep the leaking sorrows. 

 By: Towanda and Kidblue

aka Amy Eastburn and Amanda Barnabe