Wednesday, August 30, 2017

jameson’s irish pub (6681 hollywood blvd) & surrounding areas


estrogen emanating essence

she’s clarifying the causality of comfort

what a man needs to be

to be graced by her confines

 

annoyed i deploy the last line

of dialogue in this one act play

“why are you telling me this?”

she goes away

 

the bartender brings me more

 

a young man inhabits

the barstool she vacated

a six year relationship ended

she wanted him tethered

24/7

but he needed time apart

to engage his graphic art

her presence was a pillow of suffocation

“she couldn’t just give me time for myself”

“they never do” i say

he looks dismayed

as if i’ve hung hope on the highest gallows

he goes away

 

the bartender brings me more

 

a business tie loosened is next

he is vexed

the universal working man’s theme

this started with dreams

now worn thin on a treadmill

stuck in the same place

but the speed keeps getting

turned to faster

 

i quote bukowski

“finally, starved and beaten, i had to go into

the streets to be interviewed for low-paying and

monotonous

jobs

by strange men behind desks

men without eyes without faces

who would take my hours

break them

piss on them”

he goes away

 

the bartender brings me more

 

a young couple

waiting for a table

crowd the barstool

with their tongues

they exchange drool

the bartender doesn’t

even ask if they want drinks

 

they almost set the record

for the longest french kiss

but in my sack of small miracles

they are told their table is ready

they go away

 

the bartender brings me more

 

a plus sized woman takes the stool

like she’s taking center stage

orders a margarita

laboriously licks the salt off the rim

brokers

“that flooding in texas is something”

i give her a weak smile

after a little while

she goes away

 

the bartender brings me more

 

a captivating co-ed plants her flag

on the barstool

tells me i’m the kind of fool

who is going to buy her drinks

and get nothing for it

i quip “go fuck yourself”

she goes away

 

the bartender cuts me off

 

i go away

turn up the collar of my coat

against the rain falling on

the dark streets of decay

 

liquor store galore

i buy a lighter

the clerk is an insider

in the commodities of truth

tells me about the ballots cast

in an existential booth

 

i roll my eyes, surmise

“we all want to think

we are more

than we really are”

his face falls like a star

i go away

 

from my flask i find more

 

two officers show me a person’s picture

questions to ascertain a solution

i profane

“help me out here

is this the part where i’m suppose to care”

they are about to flex

when gunshots erupt around the corner

they go away

 

flask, more

 

two tourist talk to me

ask me what there is to see

i roll my eyes

point to a dog licking the vomit

left by a homeless man

they go away

 

liquor store, i buy more

 

i get surrounded by guys in a gang

i look at the leader

ask

“can you make it so i have

to spend two weeks in a hospital

with a morphine drip”

 

he begins to laugh with wild abandon

the others laugh

and with the others in tow

he goes away

 

bring the bottle to my lips for more

 

i stop to light a smoke

a guy tells me he’ll blow me

for money

i unsheathe my knife

concealed in the back of my jeans

put the point under his chin

tell him to go away

 

gulp some more

 

a bus is letting out

i recognize it will  take me

close enough to my place

board

 

at the next stop

a man sits next to me

asks if i know where

he can score some drugs

i tell him to swallow the eyes

of bugs  

he goes away

 

i exit at my stop

almost drop the bottle

as i have more

make it to my place

inside

where i can reside

outside the curdled cream

of conversations

 

drink some more

 

***

 

 

Thursday, August 24, 2017

play me like hendrix played guitar


frail fragile feelings failing

the fermentation of a fall

 

i recall

but i cannot remember

early evenings in late september

 

images emasculating egrets

the great white crane

spreading its wings

like an unfettered chain

 

there is no deception in flight

just ascension toward the light

even the howling wind

acts as an aid to wings

 

it’s all a matter of perspective

mirrors reflective

 

trent reznor has nothing on me

well, except for money, girls

and all the good drugs

 

the devil read the tabloid

scandal surrounding lamar odom

scoffed, “that’s a tuedsay for me”

 

when will the addict ache free

a drug of choice is just appreciation

you’re an addict if you’ll accept

whatever’s available

 

placards placed in proper positions

a guest never controls

their place at the table

 

conduits ghost inside a cable

carrying images you’ll only see

when you waste with your t.v.

 

a song is a syllable

in the discography of time

 

for her morning is a bowl full

of miracles

i watch her savor each slurp

usurp the darkness

that’s still dangling in the dawn

 

succulent prawns basted in butter

i utter the tao

of flesh, cracked shells, tearing teeth

 

i’m a thief

who feels nothing’s worth stealing

 

i once wrote that the sun

is a hole ripped in the fabric

of the sky leaking blue unto

a three dimensional canvas

 

i am not marred by madness

jane says there’s always an addiction

love’s a hard thing to let go of

when it’s the only way

you can get high

 

i found a ferret in the sky

he was bored because he

couldn’t dig any holes

to hide in

 

i dangle at a direct angle

above dancers emanating bliss

 

a raincoat without rain

is a stain on the secrets

of the sun

but i could never bring

myself to frolic

 

apostolic in my attitude

about acting foolish

while i envy

the light hearted lyric

 

you know you’re bad off

when you think poe

really wasn’t dark

noah’s ark

would have check marked

poe, side by side

as having a place inside

 

i deride from deep inside

the language and the laughter

i am neither sex

or the cigarette after

but i will ignite the cigarette

with my flame

 

i’m bored with basket weaving

but i need a container

for the fruit of my sustenance

 

ringing bells of substance

but no one goes to church anymore

the bells implore participation

with a pew

but all the few

have already been chosen

 

even sticky fingers do not

enable me to crawl

the sides of buildings

no one escapes gravity

even astronauts can crash

find the planet of the apes

that rapes our realization

our required resistance

for a field of ideals

planted and harvested long ago

as the only crop we’ll ever need

fallow fields will never feed

the foraging multitude

 

i’ve feasted on all the foods

of the world

and found none to my liking

 

so in my nightly hiking

hopping from food truck

to food truck

it is neither desire or luck

between the plate and my pallet

which is why i rarely eat

though i’m always ingesting

 

throne room jesting

in front of the court

i sport a tattered coat

among kings and queens

sight unseen

because no one is laughing

 

“hark” the herald angels sing

joy and good tidings bring

but only the shepherd

saturated in silence can hear

 

the devil is and always will be

a gentleman

he looked me in the eyes

asked me what i most desired

i replied

“a duet with david duchovny”

 

i don’t want to share a microphone

i just want to atone

for my lack of a live performance

 

maybe i can stop doing penance

in the purgatory of art

 

i might have found

a different sound

echoing around an amphitheater

applause casting a vote

for something i wrote

i say goodbye with a quote

“you’re all a bunch of idiots”

 

even the faithful offended

i’m upended

tossed out on the sidewalks of

the dark streets of decay

to walk alone

you know

a lot like now

 

***