On that Chuck
This bottle of
Two dollar merlot
Has got me
Rotted
Like sour grapes.
I want to rip open
Everything
And let it poor unto me,
I want my cup
To runeth over.
I stop drinking from the bottle,
And fill a cup
But there’s not enough left
To fill it,
My cup’s
Too big,
I need la botella roja
And a good tree to sit under.
If the Buddhists are right,
It’s rebirth for me.
Look for me in the future.
I’ll still be
Endlessly
Searching for you.
