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Best Poems Written by Alex Weevil

Below are the all-time best Alex Weevil poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Alex Weevil Poem

Mother

Chocolate bars full of nougat and peanuts,
Sour gummies that get stuck in teeth, 
Chalky fruit-flavored tablets,
Things coated in colorful candy shells,
With metallic wrappers I constantly hear crinkle, 
Covering an entire square foot of countertop. 
The smell of coffee brewing at late hours,
Messes of creamer and sugar left unclean,
Mini donuts and cookies to dip in, 
A constant sweet tooth that is never satisfied. 

Better than cans and glass bottles overflowing the trash. 
Better than the yeasty smell stuck in the air. 
Sticky spills in the refrigerator,
Stains on carpet,
Broken lamps and vases,
Falling down the stairs, 
The loss of someone still living.
Better than a drink before dropping off the kids at school.
Better than sleeping during the day. 
Acting like this is normal.

Growing to an age where you start to notice the signs,
Constant crying and wondering why,
Never inviting friends over, they might notice,
Pouring things down the drain that I’m not supposed to touch,
Empty promises of quitting.
Maybe if I was a better daughter. 
Staying up on school nights making sure she gets to bed safe,
Remembering to lock doors for her, 
Taking care of her child only four years younger than I,
Losing hope.

Details | Alex Weevil Poem

Mister Wister

Mister Wister and his woeful eyes
Only thinks about his own demise 
Purple blood under waxy skin 
Can’t you see he’s wearing thin?

Mister Wister doesn’t cry 
Only looks beyond the sky 
In his brain where things are caught 
Scanned over, pulled real taught 

Mister Wister mustn’t move 
His bones might crack, skin will prune
There was a time when he would dance 
Maybe again he’ll get the chance 

Once he came upon a wishing well
Coins bountiful, water swell
But in his pocket was nothing there
All that he could do was stare

Many meals once in his belly 
Why must he feel so empty?
Sorrow of a fleeting dream 
His misery bound by wire seam

What happened to all of his time?
Did he throw it away, leave it behind? 
Only when the Sun might glow 
Will he find he’ll never know

Take him as your lesson learned 
That life is lived, it isn’t earned

Details | Alex Weevil Poem

Do Good People Kill Spiders

Liquor license for my rubbing alcohol
Fumes and vapors have me squinting like a mole
Open my window, let the wind blow through
A bunch of spiders came and crawled right to me

Shouting and stomping like a maniac
I squashed them all, covered in goo
of black 
Looked through myself, right at the mirror
Who should really be the fearer?

Do good people kill spiders?

Mop up the viscera left on the floor 
Some rubbing alcohol make the stink no more 
I left it there for over a week 
The time has come to be a clean freak 

Lock the door, sit on the floor, and breathe in
Sterilize my mind and sanitize my skin
Guilt is a feeling, shames a disorder
But chemicals, they are my warder 

Do bad people realize it?

Details | Alex Weevil Poem

The Last One On Earth

Carve into the birch trees, pollen breeze my air to breathe. 
One more cough and one more sneeze until it’s over. 

Tissue paper mottled with blood and yellow-green mucus, tearing and dissolving from tears. 
There is always salt in my mouth these days.

Veiny leaves in the fervent winds remind me that I am an animal, and my skin gets filthier with each mawkish phrase that erupts from a faraway throat, but it feels like mine.

Beautiful and pathetic soliloquy fills up the air. 
I am the only one. 
I am the only one. 

With the grasses' pedagogy and the flowers' instruction, I stand up and walk to the water. 
Its chill cries out for help, my pollutant and contaminant is all but too much to be cleaned by a simple stream. 

“I am sorry,” I say. “I am sorry Mother.”

I should have been listening this entire time.

Details | Alex Weevil Poem

Inherent Wrongness

Daddy pulls out my straight teeth
Keeps them in a jar for me
Knocks it over when I'm bad
He tells me that I "must be mad"'

I pick them up off of the floor
Cracked in half and looking sore
It must be a pathetic sight
He looks at me and his face goes white

Shards of glass buried in my knees
And a head of hair ridden with fleas
He locks me in this vapid room
Says I fill him with "such gloom" 

Cardboard windows and socked feet
My ears tune-in to a ringing beat
I cannot even see my hands
This gloom-filled room I cannot stand

I get now, why I’m bound to this
What about me would anyone miss?

Details | Alex Weevil Poem

Teenagehood

Knick-knacks, bottle caps, pop tabs, and acid
The reflux of my mind of many memories redacted
Connections don't elucidate the fuzzy things that happen
Only emphasize the vacuity of brains fried and flattened

I wouldn't deign to age another decade with this habit
But self-control's a feeble virtue in youthful years uncounted 
Demote me to a lesser life where everything is vapid
My rancor for the world only grows as time elapses

I press on indulgently into the sugared gasses
The romance of it influence next generations addicts
For boys discover empathy and girls affirm their status
They haughtily plod to the tracks as the sully train passes