rhymes after midnight

fading away on the dark streets of decay

why do we fall for the hope of a better day

 

been wasted so much lately

i feel sick all the time

not as strong as when i started

these after midnight rhymes

 

this is my kind of reality show

on these streets replete

of any human kindness

the cast and crew keep changing

but the outcome is always the same

and i won’t be the last contestant standing

 

passing a café with outside speakers

i hear a familiar song

high as a kite i stop

close my eyes and get lost

like a kitten in the desert

 

the song ends and i return to

the lifestyles of

aimless atheistic artists

 

i’m not a surreal darwinist

there are those in dark alleys

who are not looking for

the avenue of lights

 

housed in a hangover

i look like a guy

who has been deep fried

 

i maintain a disguise

with sunglasses

but nothing can mask

the memory of me

 

so often i have tried to be

someone else

a levitating leviathan

that awes and amazes

while everyone grazes

on the sweet nectar

of my leaves of grass

 

my misery multiplies

under their molding

and i make my way

back to me

dilute the water

give up the struggle

and remember that nothing is real

only perceived

 

stopped at a food truck

you know you’re high

when a greasy egg sandwich

is the best meal you’ve ever had

 

i think a person’s sexuality

is deeply rooted in their psyche

i am not repulsed by what

men do with other men

but i’ve never met a man

i wanted to court and woo

quite simply because

he didn’t have the anatomy

of a woman

now that motivates

 

even as lousy as i feel

as i pass by a group

of laughing asian women

i lust

 

where ever i go my notebook goes

i often stop to jot

in l.a. no one pays attention

 

the seed of the apple tree

grows twenty feet high

but last time i was in orange county

i didn’t see a single orange tree

a lone wolf lingering in a last stand

 

garbage cans strewn across sidewalks

daring to share how no one cares

in l.a. its point a to point b

unable to see

this master of the moment

setting the cans upright

against a wall

 

this doesn’t make me ten feet tall

nothing we do makes a difference

things that matter are an opinion

i just felt like cleaning up

organizing the clutter of my mind

 

i’m laughing at the liability of your lies

hangover evaporated

i wrestle with the cosmic question

“whiskey or beer?”

 

i steer into a liquor store

shudder at the sight of whiskey bottles

(like i said

i don’t really feel good)

walk out with two twenty-four ounce cans

of miller lite

and quickly put one in me

 

now i have to pee

where oh where is that back alley

i passed out in one time

way back at the beginning

of these rhymes

before the time

i quit lifting weights

lost thirty pounds

and started getting high again

after decades of rescind

 

why are the cigarettes always gone?

back in the liquor store i purchased

yellow american spirits

had a twenty

and told the guy

he can keep the change

if i can quickly use his bathroom

 

a nod confirms what i came to learn

 

there was an empty cereal box

in the bathroom

even in l.a.

things can strike one as odd

 

i defraud my body

with another unnatural substance

even if it is natural tobacco

only a wacko smokes

 

don’t most men still hear their

mother’s voices in their heads

 

the woman who knew

how long it really was

before you stopped

wetting the bed

 

in my youth

there weren’t any diagnoses

and the cure was always a belt

momentum and impact

backside bare

 

you tried to hide

but she was witness

to your nudity

and pain and love was the dove

that delivered the olive leaf

 

you acquiesce as an adult

to the determinations of your wife

skirting the suspicion

that if she told you

to assume the position

you would bare your bottom

and grab the arms

of the kitchen chair

 

daylight faded and created

the lighting on tonight’s stage

but the play is not all the rage

and won’t be winning any tony awards

 

the doctor cut the chord

but even atheists worship

the goddess as divine

these women are so fine

one of them even gave me

an approving look

that’s all it took to tickle

the feet that fancy love

habituating a hope for happiness

 

breasts never go out of style

men are not influenced by anemic

images in magazines

and fill their little black books

with names of full figured females

 

no, you won’t find philosophy here

just another guy drinking a beer

the everyman edit

giving credit where credit is due

 

we misconstrue the memory for meaning

and, no, we don’t know what you need

even when you tell us

although i do help out sometimes

with the laundry and the dishes

 

it starts to get light around five

these days

this town becomes a different world

i stand out like black eyes

on a porcelain doll

but no one notices

amid their rushes

daylight crushes the dead of night

resurrecting corpses to

another zombie apocalypse

 

metropolis was a good film

but even those who have seen it

remain cogs in the wheel

listening to “animals” by pink floyd

avoiding the consideration of

which song am i?

 

maybe i was mystified by the mention

of your scream

but with me you only whispered

and for years after i had

disintegration by the cure

on a continual loop

trying to recoup

letters lost in the mail

 

last week i made my first trip

to applebees

ordered the american burger with fries

portions were small

it’s an l.a. thing

but it was the best burger

i’ve ever had

 

in the next booth were grads

excited about the future

i wanted to tell them to

always be that way

and never read any of my books

especially anything that contains

within the title the words

the dark streets of decay

 

***