In Fifteen Moments of Quietude

by kangcuzzi

Just last month, I submitted an anthology of 15 poems to a chapbook competition hosted by Gold Line Press. Results are coming out next spring, but I really hope I’ll do well – the winner gets 10 copies of their published poetry, and on top of that (in my case) infinite joy and happiness for having had the pleasure of knowing fifteen moments well spent.

I’m feeling somewhat sentimental at the moment, and I’m not too sure why. Some moments it’s a giddy feeling, one that makes you feel detached and all spinny-like; but the euphoria soon dies down, and for a few excruciating moments all that is left is a heavy feeling, physical as well as mental, like fat, graphite boulders sitting on your thighs and heads and shoulders. Bleurgh. I don’t like it, but like all things in life I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.

Anyhow, I’d like to leave this post with a poem (namely, a poem from In Fifteen Moments of Quietude). Although its context may no longer be relevant to myself, the feeling I feel now is nonetheless identical to that which is specified in the poetry. 

Drunk

Have you ever been drunk on a goodbye?

During this drunken state, time does fly

like an astronaut in space.

Unconscious of his movement, constantly

floating, eyes tired, mind dead. 

Here I am, drunk, drunkest of the drunk

drunk, drunk, drunk, eyes tired,

mind dead drunk, on our goodbye.

Please then, wake me up, 

give me wings and let me fly.

Or a spaceship, so I can whiz away

past the cells of this wretched world

so I can curl up in the milky way,

safe, but still mind dead drunk,

waiting and waiting, and waiting

for me, my eyes, my soul 

to die.

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