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POEMS - Cole Bauer


So what, motherfucker?
I had a few drinks 
And some hookahs
With shisha and weed mixed

So what, motherfucker?
I made some jokes
A few comments
But it's shunned upon 
Something so innocent
Because the pussies say so 

So what, motherfucker?
I'm listening to music 
With a storm outside
Writing whatever I want
Until I can't anymore


The sound of
Multi-colored leaves
Crash landing 
On my patio
Should bring me
With it being fall
My favorite season

Like everything else
In this life
It is taken away
From me

I may be in it
But I can't enjoy it
The world won't let me
It wins
With its distractions
And everything else
Will be fine
Next summer


The shit can get so deep
That you slip and fall right in
Whether it's rain in the storm
And you're on foot going home
Or the stress of the struggle
Causing life to plummet 
But I have my slip-resistant shoes
On, tied extra tight
And enough anger to take on 
Harvey and whatever thing in this world
Is holding me back or trying to


I woke up today
After a sleep
Better than most lately

I hit the ground running
All day long
Into the night

There were applications
Phone calls
Bills, debts, issues, and shopping

And it was day light
After a good fucking occurred 
When I opened the blinds 

Once I drank a few sips
Of the booze
Hit a few puffs
Of the weed
And went to oblivion
Texas had become night 
So, I became a writer again


The cheap drinks
The expensive booze 
Liquor and beer and girlie ones
So much variety out there
But the feeling is always the same
That god damn escape

It sounds like a riddle
It is not
It is a fact
It is a reminder
Drink whatever
Because it's never for the flavor
It's for the feel
Or is that just me?

I'll never get that taste
Piss water with shit cubes
Pour me a glass
And get me there


It rained so hard today
That I was
Instantly drenched
The second I stepped
Out the door

It rained so hard today
That the parking lot
Ans sidewalks flooded
And the grass wasn't thirsty
Any longer

It rained so hard today
That I drove
From my apartment
To the mail box and back
I'm officially southern


I'll start you with anger
I'll start you with irritation
I'll start you with madness
I'll start you with chaos
I'll start you with outbursts
I'll start you with violence

I'll start you with every
Word, action, movement, and sign
That shows how mad I am at it
That shows how sick of this I am
The "it" and "this" equal life
The whole goddamn thing

Fuck this god-damn joke
Where the horrible punchline
Comes often
And all over my flaming pile of life

I start you because of this existence
I start you because of things that happen
Without those rancid things
I wouldn't have started at all
And without those horrible things
I'd be dead
Because my life is made up of nothing but
The shit of earth
So, I ask you a favor
I started you
Now end me


My phone has been playing
The same song for days
And nights

Through the drinks and weed
During the words
And beyond

For the wife and for noise
Maybe, the dog liked it
Who knows

Productivity and laziness
Good and bad
It blasts

It is now turned off
But my head remembers
And won't stop the concert

Before I go insane
You must know why
The cause of death


"How have you been?"
"Really good. Working, living."

Job application and resume
Filled out, turned in, dressed nice
Sometimes an interview
With no job
Most times I get nothing at all
Still in the unemployment line

"We've been going out for fun."
"That's good you're not struggling."

Money runs low
My own wife and I
We pawn what we can
Until the next paycheck
Where we then can't even
Afford to do something free

"How's the apartment hunt?"
"Good. Still looking for the right one."

Live in a shady motel
Take pictures of nice areas
Far from where I live
The truth
And post them
As if I'm a constant 
Fast-paced lifestyle
But really
We're getting rejected
From anywhere and everywhere
Bad credit
Bad rental history
Good liar

"I love you, too. Goodnight."
"Proud of you."


Human being
All over coffee
Eggs and toast

The dogs eat
They drink
They play
Indoors and out
Such a show

The southern neighborhoods
Full of beautiful nature
Decent weather
Peaceful solitude

A flawless time
I can destroy anything
With my thoughts
That soak
To the point of drowning
From the problems
And their stresses

Thank you, Stacey
I wish I could have been there

Cole Bauer was born in Minnesota, raised in California, and currently lives in Texas. He is a published and self-published poet that writes whatever comes to mind, whatever is going on, and his own raw and real truth. He lives with his wife and dog in Houston.

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