Sid had a way with the women.
He'd stroll into bars, resturaunts(even his job); and leave with
a big new smile, and a new phone number to fuck.
As a friend, and a fellow man; I couldn't help but to feel
a little envy every now and then.
I'd tell him, "Hey, why don't you see if she has any friends that
you could hook me up with?"
He'd say, "Sure Gabe. You're my best friend! Why wouldn't I?"
But my ambitions were to no avail.

One night, as I was preparing for bed; the phone began to ring,
and it was Sid; drunk on the other line.
He broke down to me about how he couldn't find love, and that he
was doomed to live with cheap sex for the rest of his lonely life.
It wasn't the first time it had happened.
He told me that he'd scared away the girl he was with that night;
sometimes he drinks a little too much for a stranger's company.
I was used to this. It happened about every other weekend.

So we talked about irrelevant things concerning childhood and age,
cars, loved ones; all the little things that can calm a drunk.
And everything was alright. Just like always.

Sid had a way with the women.
Now I realize why his women never had any friends.
There's a road that leads to the end of all suffering. You should take it.

- Jericho Caine

secret, aaaaagent maaan.
secret, aaaaagent maaan.
Last edited by ottoavist at Sep 11, 2008,
This is slightly different for you. I think you did a very good narrative and pulled it off, you showed and didn't so much tell us, as readers, which is something people seem struggle with while writing prose.
Also your use of punctuation was up there, it was beautiful and ornamental to the piece; it made it technical.

Not much else to say really, this is very good, it reminds me of Bukowski's poem which speak about similar themes.

Keep it up.
wow great stuff i actualy really liked this. no crits from me.
i loved that last part. that really landed the punch. i didnt quit see the relavence untill that last line. nicely done mate. Cheers!

if you dont mind, would you be able to crit my poem? it would be grately appreciated.
Whatever it is you do, DO NOT CLICK HERE! ! it will bring the end of the world upon us all!!!! I swear you click it, and you will end o.O
This was just an excellent read. I'm really digging your narrative pieces lately, you pull them off so well.

I think that, "As friends, and as men in general" should be changed to "As a friend, as a man in general" to make more sense, since as it is, it sounds like you're talking about multiple friends and multiple men. I'm also going to stick my neck out here and say the ending was a little too vague. With the setup, I'm left thinking multiple things; are they hookers? are they drunks also? was it because you weren't really his best friend, just a 'bitch' of sorts? because he never got to know his women? Anyways, I could go on but I think if made clear what the true meaning of that was, it would pack more of a punch.

It very well may just be ignorance on my part, perhaps I'm the only one missing it (if so my excuse is I just woke up and am not thinking straight). That's really the only thing I think might be improved in this though. Just a solid, easy to read piece.
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.
^ I edged towards cheap women, considering the he 'sidles up' to them in bars. Not generally how one finds a hooker... though i'm not an expert (sadly )

Also because of 'cheap sex', 'stranger's company' etc. It suggests cheap women, rather than expensive prostitutes.

'As friends, and as men in general' should become 'As a friend, a man in general' I think.

alsol 'But my ambitions were to no avail.' (no avail) sounds a bit, archaic and out of place considering the very down to earth, modern topic. I think something more simple would work better.

Anyway, good piece. THe ending actually got me and didn't come across as contrived which is a big danger in this kind of thing. well done
On vacation from modding = don't pm me with your pish
This reminds me of numerous films. Sideways, for one. Also, the 40 Year Old Virgin.
An awesome read.

Actually, my favourite this week.
Good to see you taking a different approach... honestly its really refreshing, and might just be waht I need to make your poetry start hitting again. A different sort of voice and take could lead to your normal voice and take feeling fresh again.

I don't have a whole lot to say; this was a fairly stellar read. When it started out I really thought I would hate it... but by the end I was ready to read again.
Quote by meh!
^ I edged towards cheap women, considering the he 'sidles up' to them in bars. Not generally how one finds a hooker... though i'm not an expert (sadly )

Also because of 'cheap sex', 'stranger's company' etc. It suggests cheap women, rather than expensive prostitutes.

I suppose that would make the most sense, I was just reading a little too much into it and got all confuddled.

(and being an expert on hookers isn't necessarily a good thing, unless you're a pimp)
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.
I read this a couple of days ago and have thought about it since, in quite similar situations as sometimes presented in your draft. I work in a bar (luckily, I don't have to talk to anyone doing so!) and I see this happening all night long, week after week, in a literal sense. Last night, I was thinking about this while I was watching it happen in real life, bit by bit, and it scared me for a number of reasons - the guy sitting in the corner on the floor crying on the phone being the least of them.

More importantly, however, it tells me a couple things I can be very hopeful for - one being that Sid does have some love in him, some common sense, but takes the long way around to get to it - and he's always lucky to have a you or a me or that friend getting ready for bed, because as much as you or I have ever wanted to be him, he wants worse to be you, to be me. It also screams relevance in the face of society, an apathetic drone that it takes earthquakes to wake up, and complete devastation - sometimes more - to propel into being, into believing, and those who are silently observing us and them, taking notes, scrawling on stone (for paper will simply not last, and only epitaphs will be studied by future archaeologists) and those taking the time to learn while living and truly loving will outlast the bars and shotglass culture of forgetting everything that is not here and now and drama's allowance will deliver only superficial looks to the audience - the saddest part is that the players never read Shakespeare (prime example!) and do not know of the stage they play on. So write on, my friend.
love it. I always like songs based on reality rather than sappy love songs. Well written.
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