“I
don’t care if he puts a rubber glove on his head and runs naked around the
store screaming, ‘Hi! I’m a squid!’.” – Mrs. Timkin
bar
fights
drunk
tank nights
court
proceedings
attorneys
pleading
a
jury of my peers?
guilty
verdict
the
harshest sentence
sent
back to the lies
i
like to linger in
escaping
jail time
courthouse
steps
i
light a cigarette
let
my sentence begin
*
“buy
a girl a drink?”
“sure”
is my cool
“thanks”
she says
and
notices how i flinch
when
she touches my arm
i
nod to the bartender
and
motion to her
he
puts a drink by her hands
i
pretend not to notice
how
he didn’t have to ask
her
what she wanted
i
want to bunt
sacrifice
myself so someone else
can
get to second base
she
says her name is missy
i
shake her hand and
tell
her my name is barfly
she
doesn’t even twitch an eye
in
los angeles everyone lies
after
drinks i try to say goodbye
but
she notices my eyes
lingering
on her breasts
which
nature obviously
did
not endow her with
she
gives me a kiss
asks,
“what are you into?”
“pine
cones falling from the sky”
again
she doesn’t twitch an eye
and
my manhood won’t let me hide
the
fact that, after all, i’m just a guy
and
the offer of her honor
is
all that is needed for me
to
honor her offer
*
her
place
i
see an ash tray on the table
but
i just can’t smoke inside
i
go out on the balcony
but
can’t find my lighter
and
remember i saw one on her floor
i
see her ready to pour a beer in a glass
and
ask she just give me the bottle
that’s
when she wants to know my real name
i
divulge
“the
writer?”
and
i suddenly feel very exposed
while
thinking she might actually
be
a person of substance
(you
know, because she’s read me)
then
she says,
“you
do know one day the universe
will
be permanent and unchanging
when
everything has finally decayed?”
foreplay
for my mind
i
stare for half a breath
then
pounce
predator
and prey
devour
defines sex
when
we are done
ever
her neighbors need a cigarette
*
i
wake to the merciless sun
searing
the shear shades
that
dance from a breeze
at
her open window
i
find half my clothes
and
find her in the kitchen
breakfast
burritos on a plate
i
quiver at the fate
of
me coalescing with the
leash
and collar collection
i
offer to go get us something to drink
she
opens a beer over the sink
i
begin to see a woman materializing
am
i ready for all the relationship
compromising?
*
after
food we are at a store
where
she drops some serious coin
i
ask what she does for money
“i
make men fall in love with me
till
they give me all their cash
then
i kick them to the curb”
i
blink
she
laughs
hands
me a business card
she’s
an editor
for
a publishing company
“you
were in my top ten
of
favorite writers
now
you’re number one”
“there’s
no accounting for taste”
i
mumble
“let’s
go to a bar till we stumble”
but
she has something else in mind
back
at her place we smoke weed
till
we’re baked
then
bake cookies
and
eat them all
*
once
again i’m woken
by
the rooster of the sun
still
having thoughts i should run
we
venture into the day
cups
of coffee and
her
telling me why her
favorite
month is may
i
want to let go
crawl
into her arms and sigh
maybe
even cry
but
to let someone inside
is
like your pen running dry
in
the middle of a masterpiece
and
you are without the ability
to
manufacture a manuscript
that
makes you larger than life
instead
i make a beer run
continue
the fun
see
how exciting it is to be with me?
never
let anyone see
i
am convinced i can’t really be me
because
then i would not be loved
accepted
which
i long for like a five
year
old child
***
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