went
to a party
women
in skin tight dresses
cocktails
in hands
well
groomed men
then
there was me
bottle
in hand
worn
out walking shoes
un-groomed
nothing
tight to show muscle might
met
with eyes that didn’t hide
disapproval
i
was asked questions
snided,
“ask
me no questions
i’ll
tell you no lies”
walked
away
returned
to
the
dark streets of decay
even
the host who had invited me,
had
bought my book,
“the
dark streets of decay”
could
only say
he’d
got five poems in
and
couldn’t read anymore
it
was so deep
he
couldn’t grasp
oh
for fuck’s sake
i
was just singing amazing grace
for
those of us who know
all
love is conditional
every
street sign on
the
dark streets of decay
reads,
“leave
all hope behind
ye
who enter here”
and
when you speak
from
a perspective
pointless
and unprotected
is
the armor that i wear
at
some stairs
a
sign,
“there’s
a bar up there”
i
ascend
enter
in
no
one pays me no never mind
just
the place i was hoping to find
i
grind
into
a barstool
bartender
breaks out his tools
builds
me a double shot
and
a mug of beer
from
here i can select songs
on
the jukebox
button
press
i
select
“look
on down from the bridge”
by
mazzy star
the
woman next to me asks,
“do
you think lake titicaca
was
the first transgender?”
i’m
so floored by my adore
i
take her hand and kiss it
then
tell the bartender
i’ll
be paying her tab
she
says,
“speaking
of tabs”
and
shows me two
perfectly
cut squares
it’s
been a long time
since
i’ve seen a tab of acid
we
each decorate our tongues with one
some
rationale still remains
“we
should probably trip
somewhere
more equipped”
i
settle our debts
we
descend the steps
our
hands become conjoined twins
we
turn left
linger
in the labor of legs
until
the layer of lies
are
peeled into skinless vegetables
at
a store front window
someone
has posted
a
“missing” sign
i
take out my pen
and
write one word
“why
ichabod?” she asks
“it
means abandoned by god”
she
takes my pen
writes,
“ichabodess”
we
go to kiss
but
burst into laughter
at
the absurdity
of
happily ever after
light
cigarettes
take
out our phones
stomp
them into permanent
silent
modes
invisible
we reload
by
draining my flask
which
i toss in the trash
with
both of our phones
flip
off a drone
take
out my mp3
put
a plug in her ear
and
mine
select
“are
you experienced?”
by
hendrix
take
her hand
and
lead to the ocean
which
has more culture
than
that party
still
contained
on
the cascading hills
of
california
depicting
the lack of substance
that
defines los angeles
i’ve
chronicled this consciousness
all
the way onto the hard backed cover
left
my long time lover on the
surreptitious
sands
as
my co-conspirator and i
have
stripped and slipped
into
the waves that erode the shore
we’ve
just abandoned
***
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