Poetry: A Toast To Tempers

In this cup of gin
I’ll bury all…
All the attempt to cause a scene
And make my fist kiss a brick wall.

Here’s a drink to the gloom that comes with anger
And the push that remembers to hurry.
To the nights my mistress swung at her,
And to the days i didn’t say I’m sorry.

This is how tempers fly:
They don’t just jump out of the sky
They put a black before your eye
And they escape with a smug alibi


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