D. B. DEVILLIERS

Poetry

Tag: poems

Eight Years

Isn’t it so hard to be a person
I think it’s pretty hard to be a person.

Alleviative Measures, Primarily Liquor

I guess then I’m going to
drink until I can’t stand or
at least drink until I
can’t stand it anymore
or more likely both
and then I’ll get there
and then I’ll get there again and
again and again and
I’ll have gotten somewhere and then
I won’t really remember where so
why not do it again maybe
next time I’ll remember where
it was I got to last time or
next time or whenever I guess
when doesn’t matter much I think
I’m gonna go ahead and
have another
drink.

I think I might even write a poem about it.

 

Arid

I love like rainfall
in a parched ugly desert
sporadic, unpredictable and
long-anticipated.
Rivers roar through
my scarred features

they soak my soul
and it brings me to life.

Of course,  the rain can’t last forever–
I know that it must end
and it will.
Sunlight will return, soon, searing
it’ll burn me back to dust
and the rain will have dried up
and nobody will suspect
there’d ever been life here
at all

but not yet.
I’ve still time.