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When You Drop The Golden Ticket
by Dan KastenI hold my breath and count to ten
to determine if this is one of those
several moments that could change my life
leaving good times for the undisturbed
my weathered eyes look into the mirror one last time
and confirm that entering my new mad world
will probably leave me more scarred, than smarter
privately, I write my epitaph and smell the words thereafter
destroying the tools I used to bury the watchmanÂ’s clothes,
ready to call a really nice guy to get drunk with.
11/10/2007 Author's Note: “I heard the neighborhood was bleeding… fresh shirts and rain coats for the cause.”
Posted on 11/10/2007
Copyright © 2025 Dan Kasten
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/10/07 at 05:39 PM Man, I like this. And I really dig that line in your author's note. Where's that come from? |
| Posted by Graeme Fielden on 11/14/07 at 11:38 AM we all neeed a nice guy to get drunk with sometimes, huh? Who's for a guinnness with a whiskey chaser? ice blend of introversion & exterior, Dan... Hope you're well. G |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 11/15/07 at 12:04 AM I've been away for a while, and this is just the ticket back for me, Dan.
I am a "more scarred, than smarter" person, and it's not so terrible (as long as you've a buddie around who understands...)
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