it all started with a ride to the liquor store

cartoon exterior
random street signs and broken tree lines
stretching like naked bodies toward oblivion
slightly buzzed and shirtless
under an unattended sunset
we seek sex like cancer and warm death
unattainable, unpredictable

something’s off
i missed another moment
was it the pirates at parties
cocking their cannons
was it the scantly clad hippy girls
caught up in fire trances
was it the sinister smile of the gypsy woman
or was it just another passing memory of me

content and bleeding
i’m a reluctant shaman
sitting on a crooked lawn chair
enveloped by caustic smoke
and the smell of burning pine
from a hastily lit fire
cast in earth sign
the music is trying it’s best
to carry me to a better place
as i daydream of whores, super heroes
and artists on acid

once again i hold
a thousand little words
jumbled in a meshed calamity
waiting to be spoken
or simply shown as a token
of simplicity’s intelligence

i failed at french tonight
and forgot blanc means white
the wine and cigarettes are
burning my throat
and i just picked a tick
off my leg
creepy little creatures that raid
i cut that fucker in half
with a rusty razor blade

the flower gardens are mass graves
waiting for birds and bees
to pollinate and assassinate
red yellow scented memories

tonight almost feels like summer
the air is calm
just the right temperature
for passion
and it’s strange how i
suddenly remembered that girl
the one long since gone
and how i dreamt of her
wading in shallow pools with her
strangers, kept in empty chambers

there’s no deadline now
but somehow
we are murdered at the last minute
by fantasies littered with
lives half lived

i long for an un-retrievable mystery
to carry me through this unending evening
so, with resigned lament
i submit to the fatuous fury
of familiar fables
fabricated, and almost forgotten

exclamatory illusions
leap forward from
the the minds of mainstream mythology
as all this nonsense plays out
in a low definition rendition
creaky bones
steeped in
precarious tones
of delicious elucidation
bring mornings fit for a cadaverous king





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