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ashlee workman

ashlee workman is a poet from carpentersville, il. she likes to drink. ARWorkman7@hotmail.com



Sitting on the mattress

Like two drunken princesses

I’m not sure of all these faces

I might know a few

They are all parading around the room

We wait like royalty

If they want our conversation

They’ll have to come over and get it

My beverage seems to be lacking juice

I think the liquor has bullied it all out

Pure Vodka on a flying mattress

When we leave I’ll polish off the bottle

You’ll just get sick

Losing your accessories

Drenched in puke


Night Life

Her perfumed wrists smell like magnolias

Licking her teeth at the mirror

Dazzling the atmosphere with playboy glamour

Glitter on her neck

Fingernails painted sinfully red

Astute with bar junkie knowledge

Keeping her body tied to the dance floor

Showing off her finest assets

Dancing with the “Lords of Acid”

Sweet in strobe light immortality

Calling upon the weak

Summoning sex

Living it up in high heels and red lipstick

Gorgeous with night life

Beckoning a victim

She’s hungry with heat

Waiting for the right moment to sink in her teeth

He follows her short skirt into the alley

When the door is closed she lifts him by his neck

With a laugh towards his cowering lip she slams him back to his feet

She licks his tear with encouragement

Towards the light of the moon she sucks out his life

She slinks back into the nightclub

Dancing with sharp cleverness

Death lay in the back uncovered

She could care less


Waiting for another deer to cross her path


To Save The Night

Buried in dust to save the night

He is titanic

I need a drink to slow down the pace

I am revving

This place resembles an 80’s commercial

My Marlboro fingers are in the midnight itch

Vodka slams

Music in deaf tones

I could lick it

This place melts like dusk

Camel looks holy standing mighty in sandals

Speaking to me in rich tones

He lets me know that my book has been read

It’s so late that it’s becoming a toss up between the back of my eyelids or porcelain

The faeries are whispering

I’m trying to listen to them but I’m dizzy from bouncing off the moon

And “The Wall” says it’s time for bed

He’s in for disturbances at the break of dawn

The morning rises but I’m still buried

To save the night



Ever wonder where your clothes are?

And why you woke up naked on an uncomfortable shrub?

Drinking has its disadvantages

I just haven’t got a clue

My breath might be stanky

But so is the rest of my body

Soon I’ll be bent over a toilet puking

Get in line boys

I know how attractive I must be sounding

My left eye won’t come out in the daylight

I’ll just squint until I pass out

My tongue seems to be attached to the roof of my mouth

Do they have a cure for this?

A special shot that makes your situation not seem so comic

If so I’ll gladly sleep ass up

Just inject me with as little movement as possible

My vision is acting like bad receptive television

I forgot even what I was talking about

Right, drinking has its disadvantages

I just don’t have a clue


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