Me, leaving Las Vegas

These images project on to the screen of closed eyes,
Images from beyond this body,
Telling me to drink,
To Las Vegas I must leave,
In intoxications arms,
As one last drink leads to just one more,
For the road and beyond,
And infinities Jack Daniels leads on to forever’s never ending glass, Perpetually filled to my livers miss-content,
The bar tenders silhouette beckons me further down the optics,
In one glass of a pint as marked by the crown,
And Mr. Weights and Measures,
To be consumed whole within this see through shroud of the un-dead, And to stumble up these sheer side an impossible task for us of weakened will,
As friends and lovers erase themselves from this car crash, We stumble on picking gravel from un-noticed wounds,
A blood pours from lacerations we laugh about, Stitches we pick at as we head for the neon flashing light for our exit, The rumble of crashing wheels and tumbling change,
Four cherries, with brandy?
Yes, but a pint, in a glass of Arthur Guinness,
If you please, and a pinkie jutting out,
Coz we is posh, innit,
And in this prefab motel room lined with empties,
We gag and choke on our own jubilations,
With only ourselves to watch over our demise in to rigor,
The wooden box made from recycled cardboard,
And dumped within this unmarked hole,
Mourners of morticians and those paid by the state to dispose of this bloated carcass,
I once loved,
But many moons ago,
Left discarded by those we once cherished,
And forgotten by those we once nurtured,
And with no fault of our own they left me behind without one single thought,
For their futures they lived regardless of me,
And with the memory I shudder to recall,
An emaciated man in boxers and a sock. The thirst for a pint of caffeine dragged from a cafetière, neat, On unsecured legs in stumbling,
A five o’clock shadow that has developed to a Grizzly Adams goatee and beyond,
A father that once prepared there lunch for school,
To a man that struggles with speech in human terms,
A mans whose kisses used to comfort now intoxicates,
A man who used to chastise now replaced by a shambling wreck cracking tasteless jokes,
A house that once was a home,
Now a lower class squat,
This is what I am remembered for,
And to this image I lived up to,
Now drunk in to oblivion,
Whose liver now preserves itself,
And tattoos the only identifying mark,
With the names of those he leaves behind emblazoned upon decaying flesh,
Enclosed within dessert sands,
Away from prying eyes and forgotten,
I am just the silhouette that flickers across your blinds.

This poem was inspired by my favourite film, “Leaving Las Vegas”.

Nicholas Cage’s character is an alcoholic who sells everything he own to go to Las Vegas, to drink himself to death after the collapse of his marriage. He does not eat, just drinks spirits by the bottle, frequently. It had been my intention after my first wife left to do the same, although i had nothing left to sell to make money, I sat in a grotty house in Northamptonshire and tried my best.

Not quite the same, I know, but it was a dream of mine, maybe my biography should be called leaving Northamptonshire, sex drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.

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