Hello all,
This is a poem about the Liquor City I spent too much time in while I attended Syracuse University. The place was massive, like a warehouse, but it was never that busy except for the regulars, such as myself. I thought I’d share some of my intrusive thoughts and internal struggles will waiting in line there. Let me know what you think, if you decide to read it.
Best,
JCO
Booze Run
You’re licking liquor for a quicker chemical
Mixture to manifest a meaning that is
Depleting in the fleeting feeling of
Fulfillment forsaken by the figments
Of fellow indignants posting their malignant
Minds after drinking boxed wines and now
Sitting in lines with you, causing no fuss
Until the trust is broken by your open
Apps, because after a few taps you know
That those relapsed chaps around you
Are the reason for your own depletion,
Deceiving one another into believing
Screens are the means to meaning, or
Bottles will solve the liens when, really,
They're sheens in the thin veneer of
Fear over a bad fiscal year, or that
Those held dear will suddenly disappear--
Anxiously aching for the line to grind on,
You keep your mind locked on the apps,
Fingers tapping and grasping white the
Neck of rum, strangling until it's finally
Done.
Jogging the Mind 