went
to a friend’s
who
lives close to the ocean
it
would have taken too many buses
to
take me there
so
i paid a shuttle
arrival
threatened my survival
there
was no talk of drinking
just
talk
till
finally he mentioned
the
taco place across the street
two
tacos, two premium beers
two
shots of tequila
and
i was ready to begin the night
but
he mentioned he was tired
and
ready to turn in
i
lay on his couch
afraid
i would never get to sleep
but
it was really comfortable
and
i was out by ten at night
*
i
wake at first light
rested
for
once i didn’t wake with a start
from
another bad dream
i
saw that i was surrounded
by
dream catchers
but
my mind that minimizes
everything
to molecules and membranes
decided
to make nothing of it
my
friend comes out of his bedroom
saying
something about a diner down
by
the shore
a
hot cup of coffee
a
breakfast burrito
while
we stare at the sea
i’m
almost at peace
i
start to wonder
what
is it about my place
that
pushes me into the
dark
forests of insanity
and
out onto the maddening streets
the
only common denominator
i
can find is me
i
show my friend my smokes
and
excuse myself
though
the farther i move from the crowd
to
the waves
the
more i feel as if the me who i am
is
as violating to this beauty
as
if i had just stayed by the eating tables
and
lit a smoke
i
often think if i would just
stop
drinking
things
would be other
then
what they are
but
i never do more than think
and
that mostly when i drink
at
least for the moment i’m not drinking
i
return and buy another coffee
and
we head back to my friend’s place
he
tells me about a new exhibit
at
the local art museum opening today
that
he would like to see
this
is gonna be a long day
*
to
get to my place from here
you
have to travel through many miles
of
concrete and congestion
you’ll
find a dirty ash tray
empties
strewn about the place
and
an abandoned writing career
my
friend wanted to burn one
before
the museum
so
we take a bus
get
off about a mile away
and
start walking
he
lights up
i
pass when it is offered
enter
the museum
where
i watch the wanderers
with
their introspective silence
survey
and cough up meaning
from
canvases covered in casual despair
as
usual
this
whole place is a no smoking area
i
excuse myself
pass
through the gift shop
buy
a coke
intrude
on the sidewalk
light
up
a
tight t-shirt walks by
apprises
me with big brown eyes
notices
how much i am out of place
and
finds herself strangely attracted to me
my
glare is meant to prepare
that
i would only bring her despair
but
her smile is still flirtatious
as
she passes by
i
decide to give the inside of the museum
another
try
and
find my friend
i
want to paint this place gray
title
it “the dark streets of decay”
instead
i stare out a window
and
see a squirrel traveling on a
cable
between two telephone poles
think,
wtf?!
talk
about random and not part of the design
*
at
last my friend is ready to leave this pretension
we
pass through the gift shop
he
buys a water and i another coke
i
convince him that we just walk back to his place
and
start to feel more at ease as we roam
that
is until he asks,
“so
what did you think?”
i
don’t really want to have this conversation
then
a thought strikes me
“have
you ever read my book
the
dark streets of decay?
that
is what i think”
he
doesn’t answer
as
i know he hasn’t even heard of my book
mission
accomplished
*
we
reach his place
and
i accept his offer of water
step
outside for a smoke
and
a few moments of solitude
i
think about henry rollins’ words,
“i’m
not an artist, i’m a reaction to life!”
and
i realize the only thing i purposely do
is
drink
everything
else i just react to
*
finally
got around to brushing my teeth
splashing
water on my face
changing
my clothes
my
friend saw how my body just
doesn’t
have any hair
and
mentions,
“you
don’t have much farther
to
go in your transformation
into
a woman
“shut
up” i say
as
i slide a shirt
over
my head
*
i
fell asleep on the couch
wake
to find my friend
has
fallen asleep
in
his reading chair
book
open on his lap
we
both begin to stir
he
puts vinyl
on
his record player
boz
scaggs
an
album i haven’t heard
in
forty years
“you
do know it’s 2014?” i ask him
“fuck
you” is all he says
i
start putting on shoes
saying
i will buy us dinner
a
play to move us to anywhere
that
sells alcohol
*
my
friend orders a salad and a diet sprite
i
order a taco plate and two drafts
down
the first before the second
is
placed on the table
the
waitress walks away
with
the empty mug
“it’s
kinda early to be drinking like that”
my
friend educates
i
blink then say
“faded
blue jeans are fixed points in time”
pick
up the other draft
down
it
and
head to the bar for a refill
i
do a shot of honey whiskey
then
come back with a draft
and
savage my tacos
*
we
walk to the edge of the earth
and
watch the waves wave goodbye
to
the sun
my
friend lights a joint
i
light a smoke and open my flask
and
we stare at the illusion of the sea
“it
really just ‘is’ you know”
“what?”
my friend mumbles
“the
ocean
we
make it beautiful and majestic
by
perceiving it that way
but
it’s really just molecules”
“god,
no wonder you drink”
my
friend states
i
take another swig
watch
the absence of light
change
the perception
of
what is seen
*
i’m
waking up with a face full of sand
one
eye swollen shut
one
rib feels broken
and
my lips feel as if they have
been
stung by a swarm of bees
we
were descended upon
eight
men
my
friend had been in kung fu san soo
for
six years
but
like my boxing days
it
was all awhile ago
we
fought back
but
got the shit kicked out of us
my
friend has a broken nose
and
is still unconscious
could
have been worse
more
than just fists and feet
i
rouse my friend
he
opens his eyes
focuses
on me
and
says,
“i
think i’m ready for a drink now”
we
take a seat at the bar
where
we have had dinner
the
past two nights
beach
sand crusted to the blood
on
our faces
my
friend matches me drink for drink
which
as you know
is
saying a lot
we
close the place down
i
pay the tab
and
we stumble back to his place
he
falls into his bed
and
i onto the couch
***
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