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Saturday, 14 November 2009

The Confession


File:Liquor Bottles on a Bar Wall.JPG

Bottled up in the man something old
Bothered and blue you would conclude from
The vows he mouths to his unresponsive
Beer, in its nonjudging container.
Odd how lost you have to get before rescue
Vessels start to pick that signal up,
The anxious beeper of a fear of yourself,
Thought the man, now quietly slobbering,
Revealing his mood to the girl at his side,
His vanguard, prosecutor, agent.

File:De Oude Buis - interieur.jpg

Liquor bottles on a bar wall: photo by DWS-Montag Zen, 2009
De Oude Buis -- interieur (de Bar): photo by Ambertje86, 2006


gamefaced said...

very much like

aditya said...

Heyy Tom

Alcohol. Strangely I've vowed to keep it away from myself till 10th December, for a whole month. Let's see how go about it.

I could sense a lot of honesty coming from your side, directed, unadulterated, straight into your text. And I liked every bit of it.

The vows he mouths to his unresponsive
Beer, in its nonjudging container.

Very nice, Tom.
I would be reading all your other new poems pretty soon.

ps : Your Life, Your Call. What else I say?


George Mattingly said...

Nice meditation on the meditation that takes place in such places. I'm reminded of the lines in a Tom Vietch poem: "A man orders a beer / inspects his feelings." And of course then goes home.

TC said...

There's a Russell Edson line that returns to me now from somewhere beyond Jupiter.

"A man tilts his head back and pours his drink into it."

Always found slightly uncanny the image of the guy unscrewing his cranial cap and pouring the drink right into the brain, skipping the oral cavity.

leigh tuplin said...

Red wine sometimes talks back at me, I try not to listen :)