(the
lock on your cell
in
which you are imprisoned
you
created
you
swallowed the key
and
when it passed through your bowels
and
came out with the excrement
you
saw only your own shit
justifying
the reason you would
not
dig out the key
and
set yourself free)
at
a bar
don’t
know which
don’t
know where
was
walking by
went
in
ordered
there
were several men
wearing
suits
don’t
know much about such attire
but
i could tell they must have cost
some
serious coin
white,
young, clean cut
cover
of GQ
they
started talking to me
one
had heard of my poetry
started
treating me like a celebrity
invited
me
to
where they were moving this party
i
rode along
till
we rolled unto a very long driveway
talk
about a multimillion dollar home
inside
the place dripped of money
lines
of cocaine on a table
(what
is this? the 80s?)
a
breathtaking beauty of asian descent
sat
on a sofa
she
didn’t look happy
i
accepted the offer of a beer
one
of them stood near
a
roaring fireplace
i
could hear him on his phone
setting
up the private jet
to
take him to san francisco
in
the morning
other
conversations drifted to my ears
and
i began to understand
all
these men belonged to a crime syndicate
one
of the men walked up to the woman
caught
within the confines of the couch
he
unzipped his pants
she
took him in her mouth
and
i realized what she was there for
couldn’t
take anymore
pulled
out my cigarette pack
“i’m
gonna step outside”
i
said to a man who had just
snorted
a line
no
one objected
this
was not the place for cigarettes
i
closed the front door
inhaled
smoke
exhaled
started
walking
never
been in this area of l.a. before
walked
the sidewalks
like
i was lost in a maze
till
i realized i was on beverly
got
to doheny drive
made
my way to santa monica boulevard
hit
a bar
drank
to forget events of the evening
and
ignored anyone
who
tried to talk to me
***
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