Too Much Axl Rose by Steven Storrie

I overdosed on Axl Rose

And tore my home apart
Tore down the American Flag
From the wall of my bedroom
The one from Atlanta
All those years ago
The one you gave me
When we were still friends
And you actually meant something to me

I tore away at myself too

Not enough people do
No guts, most of them
They reek of cheap honesty
and weakness
Ulterior motives and modest ambitions.
They lack the guts to even shit properly
Most of them
What’s a few punches to the face
Outside a bar
To learn about yourself
When it isn’t your nose
That’s getting broke

I roamed L.A like it was my living room

Stalked Melrose like it was my own place
I turn the hurt loose
On women that specialise in pain
And pour whiskey down the necks
Of people I loathe

There’s a homeless guy on the corner

In a True Blue Madonna t-shirt
And a cardboard sign that says
Change.
I agree with him and shake his filthy hand
Conscious of the encrusted shit
That sits
Beneath his yellow nails

The chick in the liquor store

Who sucks my dick on Saturday mornings
Has just become a poet
She tells me she could never have done it
Without the aid of rock n roll
Friday night my friend is in town

Show me the city of angels
He asked me, all giddy like a kid
On Christmas morning
So I took him to get a handjob
Off that girl with the weird birthmark
The one with big eyes and no tits
Some people say she’s only thirteen years old
But I’ve never seen her passport

You say I’ve got too much Axl Rose

Blame my parent’s and the times
Blame school and the record player
The one I sat with in the corner as a child
The one that fed me secrets
And California oceans
Like they were going out of style
The one that hissed and crackled when you played it
And filled my head with dreams
The only true friend I had or wanted
Apologies to anyone in my phonebook
Who had misconstrued their place

And anyway what the fuck do you care

We collected memories and now we’re just
Estranged
Stored them up in cardboard boxes
And forgot about them
Like elderly relatives that inconvenience us
And never give us money anymore

So maybe I’ve got too much Axl Rose

But living with you was like living

With your face pressed against a storm

Like holding a hand grenade in one hand
And crossing your fingers that it didn’t go off
With the other

There’s nobody on the strip tonight

The lights are on
But nobody’s home
No pimps or pushers or pederasts.
Just wolves on the prowl like me
Sick and virulent souls
Diseased and looking for a carcass
To pass another weekend with
Until the Monday morning red eye
And the realisation
That you’ve wasted your whole life

So go do what you like

I’m gonna hitch a ride to San Diego
And take a piss on the beach
When the heat gets too much
You always wanted to protest vivisection
And I just wanted to watch the game.
Sometimes you have to learn your lesson
More than once
That life is short and brutal
And you must take your fun
Where you can

So I’m alone on the street with my thumb out
My tattoos getting cold
While you sip wine in an expensive apartment
Careful not to spill a drop on your designer rug
Or the imported cream couch I fucked you on
Back when we were young
And in love
And I didn’t have quite as much Axl Rose
As I do right now.

Steven Storrie

Steven Storrie has worked as a cable T.V repair man, dishwasher, choreographer, ice cream vendor and junk yard attendant. Tired of this shit he is currently locked in his basement working on his first collection of poetry, bickering with his neighbours over nothing and storing the baseballs he keeps when they are hit into his yard. You can find him at @renegadepriest1

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