john patrick robbins, two poems

wild women and fine whiskey

I have spent the majority of my life chasing wild women and drinking fine whiskey.

Both have fire and both will place you in an early grave.

Taking your passion, leaving you broken and yearning for one more taste.

If lost you can always find some answer in a fast fuck and rented rooms.

My lines are wearing thin.


Buk’s Bastards

We are all Buk’s bastard children scribbling in dark corners getting lost and drunk on cheap wine.

Starting fights and pretending like all the rest.
Another man’s dream forged our desires.

His lines created millions and still a few curse his name.

They won’t recall ours.

The best admit they’re fucked to begin with.

And the smart, take the advice from his tombstone.

Look at the page.
And never try.

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