TYRION LANNISTER

it is a good feeling to be free
to have no load to carry
no cross to carry
to have no day no moment
but the one that we have just arrived in

it is good to be loved by a woman
to know the value of pursuit of her
pursuit of life
pursuit of whatever it is you wish to pursue
it is good i find at the end of the hangover day
to celebrate the mistakes with a toast to the gods

and who are these gods?
these mysterious creatures to whom we attribute this all
this caper this unanswerable riddle
all i know is i wish to be among them

i will drunk drunk drunk
til i can drunk drunk drunk no more
for i am tyrion lanister
and you are beautiful eyes
and an inviting sway
to a dance that i hope will last longer
than this chemical buzz
this i.v. bag of bliss
which i don’t understand
because buried beneath is more bliss

it is a peculiar thing
to drink alone
to wonder where the line is
where you no longer are a sober soul
it is a peculiar life
with clowns and bears on tricycles
with ugly stepsisters
and wicked deeds
but there is hope i find
in the exit wounds we leave in time
that is where i find my hope
which i always search for
nothing is more sacred than my constant search
for hope
and your love
and the way these two things
intertwine
the way they braid together into rope
slipknot tied tight and wrapped around my vulnerable throat
waiting for you
to drop
the floor beneath my feet

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

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