went
to light a cigarette
realized
i already had one lit
in
my hand
yeah,
that’s right, i write about
smoking
cigarettes
because
i’m controversial
when
what i’m really doing
is
enjoying these
wavy
potato chips by frito lay
i
enjoy a chocolate chip cookie
as
much as the next
but
my favorite is salt
people
say things about
my
high sodium intake
i
just blink
do
you know how much i drink?
do
you know how much i smoke?
fucking
l.a.
it’s
not that i’m without ambition
i
aspire to be abducted by aliens
and
subjected to a long anal probe
angels
disrobe and expose
why
i will never be a porn star
well
at least i have that harrison ford
charm
thing happening
oh,
and i’m really good with words
when
you live in a town
where
every woman’s physical appearance
is
put on trial
compliments
can to a long way
these
days
i
live off my royalty checks
but
in retrospect
i
can’t recollect
all
the jobs i’ve had
somewhere
around fifty
some
for just a day
catherine
of bologna
is
the patron saint of artists
and
against temptation
i
guess it’s obvious
i
never pray to her
today
i started dancing
while
it was still daylight
caught
a bus back to where
i
was last night
outside
the l.a. county museum of art
(back
of the bus it was us
me
and my flask)
i
paid museum entrance
went
in
did
a blend
with
an ongoing tour
listening
to the tour guide
enlighten
and illuminate
i
felt my heart deflate
until
i needed a cigarette
“sir,
there is no smoking allowed in here!”
“which
is why you only feature works
by
dead artists, academically acclaimed
most
of who died from their addictions
and
died for their art
but
modern artists who are alive
in
their addictions
and
living for their art
will
never be welcomed”
i
left
sidewalk
cigarette
somewhere
a liquor store is near
this
is l.a.
twist
off the top
of
peppermint schnapps
why
do i care
who
do i succumb
why
do i numb
inoculating
against my lack
of
love and acceptance
quoting
adam duritz
“all
my friends have flowers in their eyes
but
i got none this season
all
of last year’s blooms have gone and died
but
time don’t give a reason”
but
then i remember i don’t believe in time
it’s
a perception
celestial
bodies rotate and revolve
and
we interpret these actions
as
the passing of time
and
i walk around consumed
by
the consumption
that
no one gets me
fuck
it
i
will never belong
i
quote the doors’ song
“cancel
my subscription
to
the resurrection”
and
drain the pint of schnapps
wishing
i had weed
or
l.s.d.
i
just want to have some fun
but
that’s hard won
when
a dead irish catholic mother
and
dead catholic saints
are
watching over me
with
disapproving eyes
turning
to the father in the sky saying,
“do
not forgive him
for
he knows just what he does”
i
try to philosophize
my
way out of this predicament
mp3
select the cure’s
where
the birds always sing
but
nothing helps
i
buy another bottle
light
another cigarette
and
keep walking
feeling
like everyone is aware
of
everything i am not
while
the totality of twilight
is
teetering
took
me awhile to realize
i
selected the cure’s watching me fall
and
not the aforementioned song
half
a bottle left
and
i am bereft
of
good tidings
this
is going to be a long night
alcohol
and cigarettes
don’t
have an erasure
on
the other end
someone
once said the devil
is
not like god
he
doesn’t love you in spite
of
who you are
but
for what you are
yet
i stop at the sound
of
a trash truck beeping in reverse
it
has emptied the debris
yet
it passes me by
oblivious
to my unclean
i’m
just a poet who missed
his
last therapy appointment
catching
a glimpse
at
my reflection in a store front window
seeing
a thin even hollywood
wouldn’t
cast as ideal
the
cigarette pack i just opened
almost
depleted
the
bottle i just opened
almost
depleted
no
amount of hands
filled
with “scar away”
could
soothe
not
even a well lubricated hand
on
my cock
just
me on this street corner
no
song, no cigarette, no sake
no
siren singing her seductive song
will
provide
yet
going fetal
will
make me a beetle
that
the foot of los angeles
will
squash
***
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