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2003-01-23 @ 8:04 p.m. Tracy and I with Hangovers For anyone who has ever had too much of a good thing. Tracy and I with Hangovers or the Morning After: Morning came while we were dancing,Music and freedom spread pherenomes through the air, where we walked like Queens We were forces unstoppable, irresistible,Men fell panting in our wake No Prisoners were taken Huddled over coffee,Cradled around the fumes,Letting the smell make its, Way up through the Cracks in, our skulls Our whole bodies flinched inward,As a sharp finger nail simutainulously,Enters each brain through the ears,And Four barely open bloody eyes squish, tightly shut "Good Morning" chirps our unsightly, saintly Mother << | >> Older Entries - - 2005-05-20 new responcibilites-did I spell that one right? - 2005-04-26 this weekends moons - 2004-09-17 Virgo Begins - 2004-08-21 A poem by: Edgar Poe's Cat and life in The House - 2004-08-17