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Allegro

by Ryan Nardi

Drunk,
I can close my eyes and ascend.
I can feel my body burst
and disperse
but remain contained
and rise
and bubble up
into the sky.

I can wish and not think.

I can be in the moment and want it to stop.

I can look back on my mistakes and say "Hallelujah!"

But I'm a writer, and not worth a listen.
I form my constellations out of spit.
I can pour my fucking heart out
and you won't give a shit.

And that's OK.

05/13/2014

Posted on 05/13/2014
Copyright © 2022 Ryan Nardi

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/13/14 at 01:10 PM

personally, I give a good hang and crow about writers. How can I not, who pour out their hearts? Such as are worth more than mere listening, but something deeper and larger scoped.

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