the dark streets of decay (the extended version)

here i am

the wandering man

 

my second novel

“carefree highway”

is with my publisher

(coming soon to a bargain rack near you)

 

this may be my last entry

for my sequel to

the dark streets of decay

i have nothing left to say

 

divorce papers filed

child support payments

will be made monthly

automatically

 

and i’ve hit the road

clothes on my back

walking shoes

four packs of smokes

fresh lighter

wallet with license and debit card

backpack packed with nuts and beef jerky

two bottles of whiskey

some redbull cans

a few beers

(any other addictions i forgot?)

and some cottenelles

for my ass

 

paid my rent for several months

gave my cat to the elderly lady

down the hall

i’ll be back

 

but tonight i’m in the desert

probably somewhere the law forbids

a tiny fire and whiskey

fight off the cold of night

 

maybe i’ll send entries

from coffee shops along the way

maybe

 

i forgot to mention

among my list

of present possessions

my memories

of los angeles

and her

and her

and her

and …

 

no agenda now

just more walking

in places i haven’t

walked before

 

shit

it’s starting to rain

 

***

 

i blog therefore i am

you see

what it is

and why i have been silent

unwritten

 

you left me

now you’re back

with a vengeance

 

but i can’t help but listen to mozella sing

luvsik

and it’s not us

you left

 

me

 

and now i have to act

like you didn’t

 

i want you to make me feel like i matter to you

 

but even if you try

i wouldn’t believe the lie

 

because,

have i mentioned?

you left

 

me

 

before

 

the drinking i’ve been doing has been making me sick

 

i can’t stay

anymore then i can pray

and believe that something good will actually happen

but more waiting for something good

to actually happen

 

so this is our second goodbye

i know you will always be a part of my life

jenny with child

 

i don’t need a divorce

i just can’t force

or fabricate

 

it’s just too late

 

our child will know me

but she will not know me with you

 

there is nothing more that i can do

one of us must leave

 

i’m gonna go walk the streets

if you are here when i get back

i will come in and pack

 

if you are gone

so long

 

but i will not settle for anything less

then being loved

 

not making do because there is a reason

but loving me

without any need

for me to be

anything other than me

 

i’m on the street jenny

drunk and walking after midnight

but honestly what i am doing

from this moment on

is none of your goddamn business

 

***

 

 

i drink therefore i am

one moment at a time

is the only way

i know how to live

 

it’s how they say

it should be done

 

i’m not so sure

 

tomorrow is too much

the next tick tock on the clock

is the only dosage of reality

i can handle

 

people pace with purpose

i react to the immediate

physical need

 

and i like to have fun

as i define fun

 

walking round downtown

lights making their late night sound

amid the hustle and bustle

 

drunk 

torn jeans

a double edge knife

always within reach

 

i read the lettering on a window

“coffee, music, art”

comfy chairs all filled

with hands on phones

or laptops on laps

 

i burst into sardonic laughter

and resume walking

 

where's my whiskey flask

tonight it’s been fireball

and i only know the moment

cause that’s all i know how to know

 

 

when asked what i want to do

i can’t construe a comprehensible construct

i don’t believe in fate or luck

just how good it feels to drink and fuck

and walk around unfettered, untethered

in any kind of weather

 

log on to see what critics are saying

about the dark streets of decay

“he needs help”

(when i read that i laughed so hard

i rolled on the carpet)

and check the numerical chart

that tracks the sale of my book

 

i am a boxer without a hook

a writer who mistook

the moment as meaning

 

and one day they will create

a wikipedia page about me

two days after the site has shut down

 

walk around downtown

a universe in decay

is all we have found

 

and conversations with collegiate

shows me that people still dream

that the fabric of existence

isn’t torn at the seams

and even if it is

they believe it can be repaired

 

good

it’s their world

let them share

let them live

let them care

 

i just had a flight of stairs

ask why i still linger

pointing the finger

laughing, “you are old”

 

roam

unfold

bathe in my insignificance

 

and remember this is suppose

to be about moments

moments i am always

too drunk to remember

 

***

 

transient tick tocks of teleological time pieces two

(a hundred and fifty thousand people die on average each day

welcome to the dark streets of decay)

 

just walking

 

jenny was eating a salad with broiled chicken

saw the look on my face

 

fear of the domesticated pace

 

she put down her utensil

said,

“i’m not going anywhere

that is the decision i have made

that is what i want

i’m not going to tell you

you have to become something

in order to fit into my decision

but i will tell you that

you need to decide

what you really want”

 

i have her mp3 in my ear

playing “pink world”

by planet p project

 

i have a beer buzz

from the 40 ouncer i’m carrying

in a paper bag

 

i’m roaming late at night

some street

los angeles

 

just walking

not thinking

because

 

i already know what i want

it’s what i already have

 

jenny with child

 

but there will still be times

when i cheat on her with a rhyme

while walking wherever

 

so here i am

 just walking

 

it’s what i love to do

drinking

 

other’s dream

of doing so many things

 

but they are not me

fortunate for them

but i love taco vendors

beer

thick soled shoes

 

and the absence of all accompaniment

who always bring things round

to making a sound

about a benevolent being

orchestrating

 

“and that is why

this that or the other thing

happens the way it does”

 

i don’t know how atoms

made the molecular

that we manage to measure

but that doesn’t mean

there is something watching me

walk down this street

ignoring tired feet

i am not replete with ideas

of a conductor

 

yeah it is sad

that when i die

that’s it

chemical combustion

from the dirt i came

to the dirt i will return

no thought process will continue

 

 

and so i live

amid the miracle of life

battling my belief

that it just doesn’t fucking matter

 

while a woman waits for me

on sheets absent of my presence

pregnant with my child

 

i’m the alley cat

full mooned and wild

 

freed by philosophy

that dismisses

your soliloquy

about a silhouette

that’s making a list

checking it twice

save your advice

 

i’m not on trial here

death is not the consequence of beer

death is the consequence of being born

 

*** (artie knows what we don’t)

 

BECAUSE YOU ASKED (I attached correct link)

this is the link to my amazon kindle page where my books are located most notably "the dark streets of decay

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=the%20dark%20steets%20of%20decay

and after all this my cat came home

got invited to a party

i went

tried

tried being the operative word

to just have some beer

sit here

 

got approached

more encroached

by a couple of women

who had something to say

about something about me

when all they could really see

was how my shirt showed

my weight lifting muscles

and how it seemed to be affecting them

 

i played dumb

not really a stretch

 

then someone put on

dolores o’riordan’s

“are you listening?”

 

and i really want to be left alone

just let me sit here

listen

get drunk

 

drunker?

 

i’m such a wordsmith

 

this morning

i watched that early 90s movie

“candyman”

and realized i can’t really call

myself an atheist

until i can look in the mirror

say candyman five times

and turn out the lights

 

yeah

i have yet to do it

shit

it’s only midnight

 

and

wait

what the fuck is jenny doing here?!

 

she hasn’t seen me yet

and i’m willing to wager a bet

that if i sit real still

she won’t see me sitting

in the thicket of heartache and loneliness

 

i lose

 

she has found me

and won’t stop staring

someone is talking

a guy

captivated by her beauty

 

and i want to fly off this chair

and pound his face into ground hamburger

 

now she is walking toward me

(please don’t let me wet myself)

 

i can’t

i just can’t

 

i flee

grab two beers

find the darkest corner of the backyard

light a smoke

guzzle

 

and jenny finds me

because

you know

this is how she always found me

 

did i really think i could hide from her

in the dark

behind a beer?

 

she stands right in front of me

 

“hell no”

is all i can think to say

 

she notices my eye

still very swollen

from one of those eight guys

 

touches it

 

i barricade my lips

with a cigarette

stammer,

 

“aren’t we divorced?”

 

“i never filed the papers”

she informs

 

(o.k.

wait

 

WHAT?!)

 

“oh, like you’ve never made a mistake”

she scolds

 

i want to be cold

i want to be bold

 

i crumble like crackers

being crushed

and brushed into the alphabet soup

 

“besides”

she continues

“you aren’t seeing double

this size you see is not two of me

but me carrying your child”

 

“why would you want to carry

my child to full term?”

 

jenny slaps me so hard

i not only lose my cigarette and beer

but my footing

and land on my ass

 

sitting here like a piece of shattered glass

my wife towering over me

hands on her hips

 

till jenny finds her knees

and takes me in her arms

 

“goddamn you”

i whisper

 

“i know”

she says

and gently lays a kiss

on my forehead

 

whispers,

“take me home”

as dolores o’riordan sings,

“stay with me”

 

***