Sometimes people will question my poor choices never once thinking what I may have been under the influence of at the time.
From some ladies of low standards and debatable looks.
To writes that make others question my sanity.
Maybe it was the pills or booze or even a few things I no longer recall.
It sounded like a good idea at the time.
And felt awesome when I was feeling nothing at all.
From big girls to temporary single chicks of the evening.
Orgies and coke binges, to a failed marriage.
That lasted about as long as a hurricane and did far more damage to my mental facilities.
It was a temporary fix to my long term condition.
And if you have ever shared a drink or bed with me you truly have my condolences.
But life is short and there's no refunds sweetheart.
So don't let that door knob hit you where the good lord split you.
So don't let that door knob hit you where the good lord split you.
If I could recall most my antics I would still most likely hold no regrets.
But I would ask that prick who gave me a tattoo, what the fuck this Japanese lettering means.
Sayonara my darlings.
John Patrick Robbins, is the author of the Still Night Sessions published by Whiskey City Press.
His work has appeared in Fearless Poetry Zine, San Antonio Review, Punk Noir Magazine, Piker Press , The Dope Fiend Daily, San Pedro River Review, Heroin Love Songs , 1870 Magazine.
His work is always unfiltered.
If you would like to check out The Still Night Sessions Here the link Below:
I dig it.
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