A Fifth of Therapy

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Posted in Dem Boys, Friends, Poetry on Jan 29th, 2010 2 Comments »

My Son the Man by Sharon Olds Suddenly his shoulders get a lot wider, the way Houdini would expand his body while people were putting him in chains. It seems no time since I would help him to put on his sleeper, guide his calves into the gold interior, zip him up and toss him [...]

Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives… and to the ‘good life,’ whatever it is and wherever it happens to be.
Hunter S. Thompson
08/04/10
These are the best days of our lives. That’s a terrible thing to know.
Pirate Radio
08/03/10
07/27/10

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters; that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's horrible burden; one which breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without cease.

But with what? With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.

And if, at some time, on steps of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the bleak solitude of your room, you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated, ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock, all that which flees, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all that which sings, all that which speaks, ask them, what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock, they will all reply:

"It is time to get drunk!

So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk, and never pause for rest! With wine, poetry, or virtue, as you choose!"

Charles Baudelaire