echo on canyon boulevard

(the first part of a poem i am writing which will fill a book)

one room rat traps

alcohol, notebooks

attract a different kind of crowd

 

he didn’t knock

just opened my door

i jumped out of bed

where i had passed out naked

in the los angeles heat

 

he pushed me back onto the bed

larger than me and very strong

i knew i had been bested

 

he began to remove his clothes

my helplessness and his strength

sent surges flooding through me

confusing yet wanting

 

i had never done anything before

with a man

but he was on top of me

forcing my legs apart with his knees

pinning my body to the bed

with his massive form

forcing his way into me

losing himself more and more

with each hard thrust

 

it hurt

but i threw my arms around

his muscular back

held him tightly

stroked the back of his neck

with my hand

i kept kissing and licking his cheek

babbling “i love you”

 

i could feel his warm release

fill me

 

then, for a moment,

there was nothing but his

heavy breathing as he recovered

 

he lifted himself partially

holding his weight with his hands

so he could let a mouthful of his spit

fall on my face

 

standing he put on his jeans

grabbed the rest of his clothes

left

 

i violently stroked myself

then lit a cigarette

his seed slowly leaking

out of my anus

 

*

 

imbibing the cesspool of humanity

i walk free

of everything but poverty

and addiction

 

my published manuscripts

barely sustaining me

and my most recent

hasn’t sold a copy

 

my favorability has waned

 

tasteless typos taint the pages

 

*

 

tethered by the strength of a feather

l.a. incrementing inclement weather

 

i use to be an arrogant pseudo-philosopher

now nothing is preferred

broken by poverty and addiction

 

sometimes the local dive

needs a hand

i scrub pots and pans

get fed

 

royalty payments let me bring home

bags of bottles

keep a roof over my bed

 

smoking cigarettes like

i’m paid to stream it live

 

i do more than survive

i thrive

in this determent

 

no longer able to identity with

all which i have written before

 

even the dispensary

in this neighborhood

has bars on the windows

and an armed guard at the door

 

*

 

a bookie is in front of the bail bondsman

which is next to a liquor store

which is next to a 24 hour laundry mat

where the homeless sleep

 

patrol cars pass but never park

 

maybe next time it rains

the chalk outline of a body

will be washed away

 

*

 

cold water, razor

shaved

 

standing at my one room

apartment’s one window

i stare down at the dirty street

that’s baking in the l.a. heat

 

somewhere someone is screaming

at someone who is screaming back

 

i think it’s those two i saw yesterday

clutching a meth pipe

soars on their faces and hands

 

          *

 

last night’s yesterday she came to play

the contents of my bottle

was the length of her stay

 

she drained the last of it

while riding my naked cock

 

          *

i was an anti-hero

able to live like this without a job

 

the money was already made

let’s pour grey goose in the ice tray

 

and look

that famous food truck’s a mile away

 

play, play, play

in places i never fit in

 

finally

i belong

 

          *

 

this neighborhood is an unattended oven

where everything is baked until burnt

made inedible for everyone but the desperate

 

weather beaten have you eaten?

 

street sweepers are never soft on grime

 

everything here is for sale

but we all fail

to have anything of value

 

among the emptiness of riches

a beautiful love poem might get you laid

 

here the ink fades

every time someone touches the paper

 

neighbors never owe favors

whatever you give is gone

even a touch is unwanted

unless you enjoy the coarseness of weariness

 

          *

 

these properties are not zoned for laptop lounges 

but there is a couch down an alley

that reeks of urine

which probably didn’t come from a dog

 

nobody has a blog

the only laptops

are at a pawn shop

probably still have whatever the owner had

on it when it was stolen

 

my fan stopped oscillating while i was masturbating

my hand became lubed with sweat

which smells like the 40 ouncer i’ve been drinking

 

there is no fine dining and glasses clinking

and if you can afford cleaning products

someone probably drank or snorted them

for a buzz

 

          *

 

woke up to a power outage this morning

there’s no food in the frig to spoil

fortunately there was coffee left in the pot

from yesterday

before the ice cubes became a memory

i put them in a huge tumbler

and poured the rest of the coffee in

 

it wasn’t full

so i added some gin

left enough room to push on the lid

 

by mid day los angeles heat

a hispanic male was pushing

a cart with a decorated freezer

full of ice cream bars

 

from one intersection to the next

he sold every one

while i watched from my window

 

i had already moved on to the rest of the gin

then needed to buy more cigarettes

so i picked up a bottle of whiskey as well

and a box of crackers

 

i smelled from all the sweat

and had already taken a couple of cold showers

when the power came back on

and i could turn on the two fans

i got a couple of days ago from a discount store

 

i opened a can of tuna i had

put a little on each cracker

and took the plate to the window

where the whiskey was waiting on the sill

 

          *

 

this neighborhood is a regurgitated gutter

if we could we would close

the curtains and the shutters

 

if the windows are covered

it’s with tin foil, discarded sheets

or with a flag from your place of

ancestry south of these sordid streets

 

mexico city

the largest metropolis

in the western hemisphere

here you only find los angeles

partitioned into progressive planets

and orbiting satellites that have been

deemed uninhabitable

 

          *

 

addiction affliction pacing perdition

roaches and rats live in better conditions

bathing in bullshit, soaking in lies

no one can save you though some may have tried

the cool of the midnight i sidewalk and stagger

the freshly washed walls were hit by a tagger

i don’t know the day, the week or the month

maybe it’s midnight but that’s just a hunch

 

          *

 

spent the last couple nights at the local dive

after they closed

cleaning from top to bottom

 

had some bus fare, didn’t care

climbed on board

sipping my flask, i asked

the person next to me where we were going

he didn’t speak english

 

eventually i got out, looked about

bought a hot dog at the 7-eleven

smelled the ocean

walked west until water

 

passed out, woke up

threw up

walked east past the shops

till i saw a place to buy cheap schnapps

 

got on a bus heading home

 

          *

 

hung over

experience the colon cleansing of whiskey

liquefied feces

 

turn on the faucet

gulp and gulp and gulp

and go lay down again

 

a half empty bottle of beer

waits warmly where it was abandon

i add it to my cure

 

          *

 

bought a bag of oranges

from a fruit peddler walking by

squeezed all the juice out of them

into my huge tumbler

poured in vodka

 

breakfast was served

 

at lunch i went to the local dive

at the bar they have small bowls of

pretzels, peanuts and popcorn

had handfuls with two shots of whiskey

and a beer chaser

 

for dinner i bought a package of pickled eggs

and a six pack from the liquor store

 

by 8:30 i was comatose

passed out in bed

didn’t hear the gunshots fired

from a revolver one floor

and four front doors down

 

          *

 

the bed that is within my place

a mattress on the floor

a pillow without a pillowcase

a sheet and nothing more

 

by the window a kitchen chair

surrounded by some books

a corner houses all my clothes

folded on floor or hung on hooks

 

the bath and toilet in plain sight

i’m four walls, a window and door

rent covers the water and the lights

my booze is in the stores

 

mini fridge, coffee pot on top

are by the kitchen sink

one cupboard doesn’t hold a lot

but it’s enough for me

 

the trash i empty everyday

in the dumpster that’s behind

recycle, outside, you can lay

the homeless always find

 

the kitchen chair i often stare

at the sidewalks on this street

sometimes i walk them when it’s dark

but stay close to home’s concrete

 

my hand’s either holding a pen

or something i can drink

when i come to i start again

wiping sweat each time i blink

 

          *

 

knock on my door

i jumped

 

who?

 

it was her again

i let her in

 

if stacked correctly

my mini fridge can hold

a case of 12 ounce cans

 

it was stacked correctly

so she stayed

 

and three different times we played

on my mattress on the floor

 

to take a break

from the drinking

 

          *

 

all i know is i want a cigarette

so i light it

 

haven’t eaten since sometime yesterday

so before finishing this second beer

i realize i’m already drunk

 

earlier

the man that raped me appeared

when i was unlocking my door

said he’d give me twenty dollars

if i gave him a blowjob

 

he followed me in

 

never given one before

but i must have done a good job

because he left the 20

even though there was nothing

i could have done about it

if he hadn’t

 

maybe it triggered something

in his psyche to impress upon me

that i’m an alcoholic whore

 

i took the 20 to the store

and instead of buying food

when i have none

i bought cigarettes and beer

 

          *

 

sidewalk

standing still

feeling ill

 

a man came up

put the barrel of his gun

right against my forehead

“see you on c.s.i.” he said

pulled the trigger

 

it jammed

he cursed then slammed

his fist into my face

i went from frozen in place

to falling

as he left

his anger re-directed

toward his faulty gun

 

blood trickling

seeing stars

i stumble to the bar

 

the shot of whiskey burned

when it grazed the cut on my lip

 

i ordered another one

 

          *

 

window open

wearing nothing but cutoff jeans

the sweat is coming out of me

faster than the alcohol is going in

 

no internet, no phone

i don’t know what’s going on anywhere

i don’t care about anything

but this warm bottle of whiskey

on the window sill

which i have no way to chill

 

someone broke in

stole the two fans

the mini fridge and coffee pot

leaving me with a broken lock

 

i have my chair wedged

against the door

haven’t told the landlord yet

i need a new lock

 

keep wiping my face with a sock

don’t want my one towel

drenched in the sweet smell

of my perspiration

 

addiction is a permanent vacation

from everything but filth

poverty and sobriety

 

even when you’re sleeping

 

a slamming door makes me flinch

i finish the whiskey bottle

fill the tub with cold water

strip and climb in

open a bottle of gin

 

at least the slamming door put an end

to the noise down the hall

neighbors who have been screaming

at each other for hours

meth heads can go on and on and on

 

relentless heat, down the street

a gun goes off

a woman screams

threading the seams of this neighborhood

 

i take a really long swig

this bottle is really big

so i take another

 

i look around and discover

another bottle hidden under the pile

of clothes folded in the corner

on the floor

only the cap is exposed

 

eventually i’ll get out of this tub

and find out what kind of liquor it is

not that it matters

if piss could get me drunk

i’d drink it

 

fig leaves and fruit trees

are famous for mankind’s fall

if i don’t pass out i’ll crawl

to see what’s in that bottle

it’s hard to walk in a room that spins

 

          *

 

worst headache from caffeine withdrawals

from not being able to make some coffee

gone to the bar and ordered a redbull and vodka

heavy on the bull

 

caffeine console i pull a cigarette

from the packet

go outside to smoke it

 

man it’s hot

inside a man is sipping a shot

because the bar

has air conditioning

 

and one shot is all he can afford

 

i go to the liquor store

buy some really cheap schnapps

back at my place i take a sip

it tastes like shit

 

i sit at my window and stare

at the sidewalk below

 

the landlord is replacing the lock

i can have my chair back

 

the bottle is gone

the sidewalk is still the same

i reclaim the bottle that has

been under my clothes in the corner

 

captain morgan’s rum

i don’t remember buying it

or putting it under my clothes

 

i wonder if when i covered it

i tucked it in, gave it a kiss

while saying, “night, night”

 

setting sail

on what won’t be a maiden voyage

 

          *

 

some days you want to hide

the suicide ride

of alcohol and addiction

so i took an old t-shirt

and got it soaking wet

wiped down everything

in my apartment

constantly rinsing and wringing

the shirt

 

i had been wearing nothing but briefs

and a thick layer of sweat

so when i finished i soaked the t-shirt

one more time and put it on

 

sat down on the floor feeling like

i had earned a bottle from

all the hard work

and i wasn’t just drinking

because i’m an alcoholic

 

there are things you don’t see

when you’re in the midst

of a long, slow procession

like layers of filth

but it facilitated a sense

of well being

to have everything clean

 

everything but me

sweat coagulating

with dried sweat

sitting on the floor re-hydrating

with a bottle of jim beam’s jacob’s ghost

 

*

 

checking my balance

i must have gotten a royalty payment

 

sounding the depths

the readings tell me the bottom

is only a bottle away

 

i buy an 18 pack of beer

a premade deli sandwich

and a gallon of spring water

 

back at my place it won’t be long

before all the beer is warm

but i eat the sandwich

and drink all the water

before i open my first beer

 

didn’t buy any hard liquor

i feel like going easy today

i’ll be plenty drunk

before i get anywhere near

number 18

 

          *

 

correction

18 isn’t taking it easy

hung over in the morning heat

i feel the defeat of the lies

alcoholics use to justify

 

you had food and water

you can drink all night

what could possibly go wrong

 

i feel poisoned

 

must have left the door unlocked

cause she just lets herself in

is very disappointed

that i have nothing to drink

 

then he shows up

and she asks him if he has something to drink

he doesn’t say anything

just shows her some money

 

she starts taking off her clothes

and he pushes me off the mattress

and onto the floor

from which vantage point

i watch him fuck her

a look of ecstasy on her face

she has never had with me

 

fortunately, afterwards, they both leave

so i can just lie like laminate on the floor

wishing i felt well enough to be able to get up

and lock the door

but it will be a long time before i can

even lift my head

 

          *

 

the meth heads are screaming

at each other again

going on five hours

if i knew where to buy some meth

i’d get them some so maybe

they’d shut the fuck up

 

after a day of laying like a beached whale

swearing i’d never drink again

i’m letting the whiskey flow in

as freely as a comet catches

space debris in its tale

 

the sniper’s scope of an addicts dope

is as accurate as an alcoholic’s

it doesn’t have to be dead center

to kill you

 

background noise

all the boys are at the bar

i’m here because it isn’t far

from where i live

but far enough from screaming neighbors

who harsh your buzz

 

because, after all, alcohol is something

you can drink anywhere

except, maybe, standing on your head

 

this place has 32 ounce drafts

i want another one

but i only have one cigarette left

gotta go buy some more

keep my breath fresh

 

maybe on the way i’ll look for a book

which has poets talking about other poets

and how all their poetry isn’t as relevant

as their own while i wonder why any poet

would think any poetry is an accomplishment

 

heaven sent or hell bent

it’s all just words on paper

although the paper might

be relevant enough to wipe

your ass with if nothing else

is available

 

it’s as useful as reading the label

on a bottle of booze after it makes

you spend the next day vomiting

to see what in it might have made

you sick

 

you’re sick because you drank

the whole damn bottle

rubbing two rhymes together

is like ironing out the wrinkles

on a dress shirt to put on a man

who just crawled naked through the mud

 

romanticizing reality

doesn’t make shit more appetizing

for those of us who have chosen

feces as their only food group

 

we’re bottom feeders in the cesspool

of addiction

 

yesterday a guy moved into the complex

half his face covered with a tattoo

thin as a rail

arms impaled with the tracks of a needle

 

we did the customary california greeting

and looked at the ground as we passed

each other by

me going to get booze, he going to get high

cell mates in a prison without jailors

dragging behind us a carrying case

full of regrets that stretches

a 1,000 miles long

wishing we could be strong

no pride

the architects of our addiction

no one else to blame

 

addicted

 

          *

 

haggard i stagger into dust

lingering lifestyle lapping up rust

harried and hopeless i casually coddle

closing the door i open a bottle

 

drink it then sink it into the trash

moments i’m sober feel like a lash

has bloodied flesh into immobile

so i stay drunk as often as able

 

open another into a tumbler

stumble the sidewalk seeing the summer

sidewalk is stained with other losers

teeming with druggies and all the boozers

 

some incoherent some of them screaming

this neighborhood looks like the devil is dreaming

car at the corner scoring a hit

dealing exclaiming, “this shit is legit!”

 

bump into a bum who shoves me away

i keep on walking with nothing to say

tumbler half empty i turn around

that’s how you distance when you’re a booze hound

 

by the time i am back tumbler is empty

i open a bottle of which i have plenty

kind of feel sick re-twist the cap on

then take it off and drink till it’s gone

 

          *

 

thief relief

i probably could have afforded it

but what about tomorrow’s fix

liquor alley layered with litter

and a couple of drunks sleeping it off

i down the bottle and then toss

to make the litter more level

 

          *

 

non-functioning

i finally felt free

abandoning sobriety

 

nothing else could get me there

not the donut house coffee

the cigarette

the day old donut holes

the proprietor gave me

so he didn’t have to throw them out

 

after two cans of beer

my buzzed brain felt warm

after four i burst into laughter

opened another can

 

she showed up

with a woman i’d never seen before

she didn’t like that my beer was warm

but it didn’t stop her from grabbing one

for herself and her friend

 

a couple beers in

i went over and groped her friend

she pushed me away violently

screaming, “who the hell do you think you are?!”

then she stepped forward and slapped me

 

while i was in recovery

she went to the tub and grabbed my bath brush

pulled the chair to the center of the room

positioned herself on the chair

yanked my shorts down

took hold of my arm

and pulled me over her knees

where she proceeded to beat me

until my bottom was black and blue

and i was sobbing hysterically

 

she pushed me off of her lap

and i landed on the floor with a thud

she took off her clothes and sat on my face

violently grinding

while my usual partner

slapped and squeezed my balls

 

after she dismounted she ordered me

to go kneel in the corner

where they ignored me

while drinking the rest of my beer

then left without so much as a word

 

i pleasured myself quickly

got dressed and went out

to buy a bottle of whiskey

 

          *

 

got out of the neighborhood

bus to anywhere los angeles

the liquor store had a sign on its door

“abandon all hope, ye who enter here”

 

bought a bottle

grabbed a fast food soda cup

from the trash outside

place the empty bottle

where the cup had been

descend the ascending sidewalk

seeking solace from the contents

of a discarded cup

 

i could have done this at home

but sometimes i roam

among different echoes

of exasperation

 

          *

 

another day another bottle

burning through my cigarettes

 

this neighborhood is never quiet

a woman is walking the sidewalk

ignoring a man in a car

keeping pace with her

screaming

 

i walk away from the window

violence flows in the veins of these streets

 

feel the heat further into my room

the couple have moved far enough on

so i return to my window

light another smoke

refocus on my drinking

 

she shows up again

takes the bottle from my hand

and sits in the chair

hikes up her skirt

no panties

tells me to lick her

 

i drop to my knees

begin to please

with every sip she takes

she pours a little below

her belly button

it flows down to my tongue

by the time she cums

we are both very drunk

but she tells me to go buy more

 

back from the store

she is sitting on the floor

skirt fixed

smoking a cigarette

i join her in the sitting and smoking

as we drink from the bottle

 

she says it is hot

takes off her top

i begin to indulge on her breasts

when suddenly she undoes my jeans

and returns the oral favor

 

drained i drift off on the floor

when i wake she is gone

along with the bottle

 

          *

 

when the moon is past midnight

i’m awaken by a fight

two homeless men down on the sidewalk below

one saying the other one stole his belongings

i can tell they are both half past drunk

 

i don’t get up to look

but can’t help hearing

 

it escalates into violent hate

one stabs the other with the shard

of a broken plate

then takes off running

 

lights are going on

people emerging

calling 9-1-1

the wound isn’t deep

he’s barely bleeding

 

emergency vehicles speeding

to the scene

 

i know the rest of the night

won’t have an inkling of serene

so i open a beer

pull the chair near the window

light a smoke and watch

 

when everything evaporates

i’ll go back to bed

drunk

 

          *

 

late afternoon in this boiling room

i come too covered in sweat

 

fill the tub with cold water

submerge

re-emerge to go get coffee

go walking

but have nowhere to go

take it slow

until the coffee is gone

 

hit the liquor store

buy beer, smokes

and a packet of string cheese

 

back at my place i ease into my chair

eat all the cheese that gets easier to peel

the longer it is lined with the heat

 

a bird slams into my window

and falls to the street

flailing it gets run over by a car

 

i open a beer

down it with one tilt

burp and light a cigarette

the lit end of which

makes my face feel hotter

with each drag i take in this heat

 

the beer i repeat to cool down

make another burping sound

 

if no one comes to my door

i won’t be doing anything more

but what i am now doing

 

          *

 

late at night

the temperature’s dropped

i’m eating a broken banana

 

after the sun i made a food run

some fruit and a bag of bugles

i also found some stale crackers

in my cupboard which i’m washing

down with beer

 

taking my time sometimes i rhyme

though nothing here is in sync

i finish my drink

grab another

there all in a case by my chair

 

i only get up when i have to pee

i sit at my window and see what i see

 

writing in song, singing in poem

the street light outside my window

my only illumination

the corners of my room

are horror flick dark

 

realize i haven’t checked my mail in days

but i’m not doing it now

in shadows i shroud

and watch strangers on the sidewalks

in search of something

 

all of us junkies

but my junk is right next to my chair

and the empties are on the floor next

to the trash can i keep missing

with each inebriated throw

 

a yawn spawns the need to get up

get the energy drink in my cupboard

so i can stay up longer

keep drinking

 

not trying to work out the kinks in my mind

just following the chain links

that lead to the anchor

that holds me here in place

 

no lines on the map to trace

no stars to follow

just wallow of the alcohol swallow

and the facilitation thereof

 

          *

 

everything i was ever told before

i no longer believe

out among the sea of faces

that oceans los angeles

i also find i no longer care

about anything anymore anywhere

 

i have a flask

if i could conceal it i’d carry a cask

empty it into the tributaries

that flow into my soul

but the flask will have to do

and the half pint i bought

at quarter to two

before the liquor stores all closed

 

not gonna try and get home tonight

my neighborhood may have street lights

but too many snakes slither

in the shadows

for them to ever be safe to walk

at this hour

 

i’ll hang here in this alley

behind this abandoned building

and do the only thing i do anymore

 

drink

 

i’m not alone in this alley

ten feet away a homeless man shouts

at the shattered glass door

that separates reality

from the back door of everyone’s mind

 

in los angeles there’s no such thing

as a quiet moment

 

and i’m not sure there’s any reason

to ever go home

i could just roam

check my checking account

for royalty payments

or steal to fix and heal

as i grow a beard as long

as rasputin’s

 

be homeless thin

let the disease of alcoholism

ravage what is left of me

 

          *

 

the syllabus of sobriety

secrets a saturation of

a singular thought

 

the elevation of a soul

that has already been shredded

by this succubus world

 

still haven’t gone home

there’s nothing i own

that needs one

my notebook is in my pocket

like a locket that holds

a picture of someone

you still hold dear

though no longer near

 

i’m standing here staring

at a piece of wood laying

in this parking lot

 

i have thoughts

but thoughts are the downfall

that keep us enthralled

with the illusions ignited

by illustrations of

individual significance

 

we are this piece of wood

that no longer serves

someone else’s purpose

as a proprietor of their happiness

 

never quite comprehending

that all along we were always

this piece of wood

in this parking lot

that was zoned for business

by this city

in this county

in this state

in this country

on this planet

in this solar system

in this galaxy

in this universe

and whatever may be beyond

that hasn’t been categorized

by observatories

 

i light a smoke

and tether the contents of my bottle

to the insides of my anatomy

 

and move on

knowing that even the tree

that was eviscerated

for this piece of wood

never choose its destiny

 

so i coalesce with more contents

of this bottle

into incoherency

not wondering if any seeds

from this tree

that were shook free

during its destruction

are dancing in a distant soil

 

recoil

resonance and reason

but nothing you say

can make me stay

in the static of your stasis

 

and when this bottle is gone

i will get along

with another

 

          *

 

went home

sobered up enough to come to my senses

writing in past tenses

is a pastoral for the abyss

 

someone at the local dive quit

i worked sixty hours this week

during their closing shifts

cleaning, busing, refilling the ice

replacing kegs

 

the bartender gave me occasional shots

at lunchtime i got a free sandwich

 

then a new person was hired

so they paid me under the table

for the hours i worked

several hundred dollars

 

now

i’m drinking myself under the table

if i had one

maybe my head could fit

under my chair

from which i stare

in a darken room

at the world outside my window

 

          *

 

waking up wanking my wiener

hand moving faster than the

spinning brushes on the street cleaner

going by

 

finished

my mind will let me focus on other matters

like getting drunk

 

only had to pay half the rent

she’s crashing here now

paid the other half

comes and goes as she pleases

but it leaves us both more money

sharing this expense

 

at least if “he” comes by

he might be satisfied with her

and leave me alone

 

but right now she is somewhere

that isn’t here

and i’ve just opened up

my breakfast beer

 

less expenditure

more money

a junkie will always find

a way to feed their fix

a roommate is more practical

and doesn’t require measures

that might make it all end

 

wrong place, wrong time

cops or a killer

 

stomach is growling

may need some prowling

to secure some kind of sustenance

that is more substantial

than this liquid lifestyle

 

wash up

wear clean

a cream cheese bagel and coffee

then stop by the liquor store

on the way home

and collect things for my hobby

 

i’m not far into the drinking

but i just want to catch

a little more sleep

 

this time it’s her hand

that’s waking me

stroking she inquires

if i have anything to drink

 

“tons” i tell her

she replaces her hand

with her mouth

i think i’m gonna

enjoy having a roommate

 

she is washing down my taste

while sitting next to me

on the bed

passes me the bottle

 

my hand that is idly

tracing her breast

through her tank top

stops and takes hold

of the bottle to tilt it

 

one long swig and i’m

already getting lit

but we pass the bottle

between us without

the caravan of conversation

 

we share one of my cigarettes

she licks the sweat off my upper lip

takes a sip of alcohol

kisses me letting the liquor

flow into my mouth

hands me the bottle

and says, “your turn”

 

we continue like this

until the bottle attains emptiness

 

i start licking her neck

push up her top

and suckle her breasts

bare both our bottoms

and enter her

 

when we wake we have entered

the comparative cool of early evening

 

i go get us some food

non-perishables to last for more

than a meal

 

we eat our fill

then open another bottle

 

halfway in she suddenly grins

gets the bath brush from the tub

and takes up residence in the chair

 

pats her lap

i strip and position myself

for the punishment

she doesn’t stop until

i almost pass out from the pain

 

“draw me a cool bath” she commands

while she’s soaking i bring her a beer

and light her a cigarette

then with her body soaking wet

she has me lay on the bed

where she takes up position on my face

 

satisfied she lays by my side

and tells me to give her a massage

 

she’s ready for sleep

points to the floor saying,

“that’s your bed for the night

oh and tomorrow i want you

to scrub this place spotless”

 

a few feet away i lay

and watch her drift into dreams

 

          *

 

morning has made an appearance

she is out the door while telling me

to make sure i buy more to drink

 

i nip at my flask

going about my tasks

i shop for cleaning products

and go to the laundry mat

buy liquor, beer and cigarettes

then naked except for the sweat

i vacate the premises

of all dirt and debris

 

she enters holding a bag

which she places by the window

inspects the apartment’s condition

sits in the chair advising me

she needs a beer, a smoke

and something to eat

 

she has me sit at her feet

until she is ready for me

to take the plate away

 

she retrieves the bag

pulls out a riding crop

orders me to grip

the sides of the seat of the chair

 

without any tender care

she makes my bottom and thighs

look like ground up hamburger

 

she makes me put the crop in the corner

sits on the chair

makes me kneel before her

then grabs my hair

and pulls my head in-between her thighs

 

sighs of the satisfied signals her exit

and she is gone

i pull on some jeans

grab a beer

stand by the window

tonight i won’t be sitting

 

i watch the sunlight evaporate

through the window

as dusk dances

 

light a smoke

leave all the lights out

as night extinguishes all light

and stare out the window

smoking, drinking

standing

 

          *

 

we’re both here

 

a knock at the door

(what am i in for?)

it’s the manager

from the  local dive

the new person already quit

she’d like to make it legit

and put me on their payroll

 

from her spot on the bed

it is said, “he’ll do it”

 

i’m needed now

and follow to my future

fill out paperwork

and start doing what i’m told

 

she shows up and sits at the bar

like an army occupying from afar

she watches me work

while chasing shots with beer

 

the best looking guy

in the neighborhood comes in

and sits more than near

after buying her a few

they choose to leave together

 

i continue to earn my pay

which i heard her already say

she will be spending

 

          *

 

 

3 a.m.

got the dive closed and cleaned

just want to drink myself serene

vocal chords are vibrating at the door

 

it’s the rapist with an implore

as he follows her in

 

she says she’s been fucking for hours

and orders me to take care of him

knees like décor on the floor

i give him what he asked for

while she drinks a beer and watches

 

he pulls out shooting all over my face

the money that he places on the chair

she takes her share

which is all of it

 

she won’t let me wipe him off

or have anything to drink

just sends me to the floor

to rest up for tomorrow night’s shift

and as i drift off to sleep

i can hear her twisting the top

off a bottle and lighting a cigarette

 

          *

 

i wake to her absence

brush my teeth at the kitchen sink

pull the shower curtain

around the tub

and scour my being

dress and eat

down half a bottle

brush my teeth again

and go to work

 

i don’t get free meals anymore

or any shots

i’m an employee

i’m not doing them any favors

they are doing for me

by letting me work for them

 

but nothing is said

when i ease my head

by going to the liquor store

for a liquid lunch

 

i’ve lost all sense of self

in all that is recently happening

although the self

that has been stifled

was equally worse

than what i’m expected now to be

 

losing decision making is

the closest i’ve been to content

in a really long time

 

3 a.m. again

i let myself in

she lingers in nothing but skin

pats the place next to her

 

supine she reclines

let’s me dine on every inch of her

then guides me to my back

rides me like cavalry on attack

 

in the afterglow she bestows

a bottle and each of us a smoke

unspoken we token together

until we intertwine in a line of sleep

 

          *

 

i wake up to her cough

they said i could have mondays off

i stumble to the coffee maker

she bought yesterday

and make us a pot

 

when i bring her a cup

she produces two plastic clothes pins

attaching them to my nipples

bemused by the pain which

registers on my face

she puts her finger under my chin

and says they won’t be coming off

until after everything is clean

but first she wants breakfast in bed

 

she lets me drink in moderation

while she drinks like she’s on vacation

in cancun

 

it takes till late afternoon

to finish her list of chores

she says i’m due for a reward

and has me lay naked on the bed

 

clothes pins still affixed

she picks up her hairbrush

grabs my balls to move them out of the way

she flays the expanse of my inner thighs

while i watch her with tear filled eyes

then finishes with a hard squeeze

of my testicles

 

quickly mounts my stomach

and slaps and backhands my face

then does it again with the other

 

removes the clothes pins

plants very sensuous kisses on my lips

before she slips on her shoes

and leaves

 

i retrieve a bottle from the cupboard

sit in the chair

light a cigarette and exhale more than smoke

as i think

a night off from everything

 

          *

 

how i could sleep

in a straight back kitchen chair

i’ll never know

must be the power of passing out

 

she hasn’t come to yet

i make coffee, grab my cigarettes

and go to the sidewalk

for some late morning waking up

 

don’t have to work till 6:30 tonight

standing there in the sunlight

i hear a “hey” from the second story

i look to see her at the window

motioning with her finger

i hurry back upstairs

 

i cater coffee and breakfast

watch her get dressed

she makes me strip

then grip the chair

the riding crop isn’t spared

 

she has me sit on my sore backside

wherein she then ties me securely

to the chair

says she’ll be back before my shift

and leaves me wishing i hadn’t drank

coffee cause now i really have to go

 

she suddenly returns saying

“i almost forgot”

fishes a pill from the pocket of her purse

makes me swallow it

whispers in my ear

“it’s viagra”

 

there’ a bounce in her step as she’s leaving

 

she finally comes back

i’ve been there for hours

erect

losing my mind

my state she can see

and is pleased

she removes her panties

hikes up her skirt

and impales herself on me

she finishes but i don’t

unties me

stiff everywhere i can barely

get out of the chair

she slaps my butt

saying “get to work”

at the toilet i have to point

my hard cock down to pee

she comes over and watches

laughing

 

dressed i hurry to work

trying to get in a cigarette while i walk

it’s been so long since my last one

i want twenty

but i get to the time clock 

right at 6:30

and find some mercy in

the occupying distraction of work

 

finally home i’ve never felt so exhausted

but she has me pleasure her orally

and give her a massage

before letting me lay on my spot on the floor

 

i don’t wake up the next day

till quarter to four

find a note from her hand

saying i can use mine to diddle myself

 

i do

then eat and clean up

drink a few beers

before heading off again to work

 

          *

 

i come home to another note

she has found another place to live

she might come around if she feels like it

 

my eyes take in the room

all her stuff is gone

i turn out the light

grab a bottle

light a smoke

sit in my chair

and stare at the darkness

emanating from the shadows below

 

          *

 

i’m woken by a knock on the door

thinking it’s her

i speed to open it

 

it’s him

 

i tell him she no longer lives her

he pushes his way in saying

“then you’ll just have to do”

i’m so not in the mood

push him away

he punches me in the stomach

causing me to double over

 

he sees the riding crop that she left

says, “what do we have here?”

tears my clothes removing them

puts me in a headlock

and beats me senseless

drops me to my hands and knees

forcibly enters me

kicks me before he leaves

 

when the bleeding from my anus finally stops

i pick myself up off the floor

get dressed and gingerly walk to work

 

          *

 

the manager sent me to the bathroom

to clean graffiti off the wall off the stall

someone had written

reckless rangers righting wrongs

 

i took a long pull from my flask

set about my task

the cleaning solution making

my eyes burn

 

this place has been working

me non-stop

but i’ve been tucking all

that i can into my account

to move out of this neighborhood

 

we got the place closed

the rest of the staff left

while i cleaned

and the manager counted

the night’s proceeds

 

i was just putting away

the cleaning array

when the manager came

from her office to tell me

earlier that evening

she could smell whiskey

on my breath

 

everyone who works there

is on something

but i confessed

she went back to her office

and returned with a

sorority paddle

telling me to undress

and put my hands on the bar

 

i could see in the mirror

behind the bar

that she was enjoying

the job

evoking my sobs

 

then she was kissing my

tear stained cheeks

soft lips that found my own

leading us onto a pathway

which ended with my cum

leaking out of her

as she lay on the floor

 

we didn’t get dressed

she had me fetch

a bottle of hendricks

 

we sat on the floor

passing the bottle

smoking

 

the next thing i knew

she was slapping

my bare behind

 

it was only an hour before

we opened and 30 minutes

until the staff arrived

 

we threw on our clothes

went to the bathrooms

to compose ourselves

and punched the time clock

 

another shift to survive

but three times she followed

me into the back room

while i was getting another keg

and made out with me

kissing and touching

then pushed me away

while saying, “get to work”

 

twice she took my flask from me

and returned it full

before i knew it we were closed

she was counting

i was cleaning

once again alone

 

she summoned me to her office

i found her in her chair

a large hairbrush in her hand

my clothes found the floor

she turned my bottom into

the color of her fire engine red

lipstick before she had

me stand before her

where she rubbed the bristles

of the brush on my sore bottom

as she took me in her mouth

 

i came

she gave me a kiss

letting my orgasm flow

into my mouth

then told me to swallow

 

she motioned me to follow

led me to a door

that was always locked

with a sign that read “private”

 

it opened to stairs

at the top of which was

a small apartment

with a bathroom

i never knew that’s

where she lived

 

told me she wanted

me to move in

we were soon at my place

gathering anything i cared about

i left a note on the landlord’s

office door saying i was gone

so long

 

after helping ourselves

to another bottle

we positioned ourselves

to wake up in her bed

 

          *

 

for breakfast there were bagels

burnt in the toaster oven

the new cd from the band coven

and several bottles of beer

 

opening time was near

we showered together

her hands well lathered

with soap she got me off

but wouldn’t let me

have a towel and get dressed

until i submitted to a session

with her thin cane

that drew blood

which she treated with

rubbing alcohol

cooing as she saw

the burn make me squirm

 

this time the several times

she followed me into the back room

she made me wince

as she roughly groped my bottom

her teeth sunk into my lower lip

 

at closing time my balls she gripped

telling me to get under her desk

as she balanced the books

 

we sat at the bar

smoking

doing shots

chasing them with beer

until the sun reappeared

where she laid out some lines of coke

so we could forego sleep

and keep the party going

until the bar closed again

 

with all the lines in our sinuses

we got in the shower

where for an hour

fueled by the coke

we fucked faster than

the beat of the music

 

then passed our shifts without

so much as a word to each other

and collapsed into bed

after everyone was gone

 

          *

 

slowly we recycle into another day

bagels and beer

the bags under our eyes color gray

 

we drink a pot of coffee

while we check in a delivery

and put it away

 

the rest of the staff arrive

their own ghosts haunting their eyes

 

followed by the follicles

who find the barstools

to fray the fringes of their minds

lost in the liberty of the captivity

of alcohol until their heads

are on the bar

 

in her office she’s drinking gin

from a mason jar

as i drain my flask in the backroom

then step out back for a cigarette

 

suddenly she appears

as if out of no where

turns me around

and pushes me against the wall

starts slapping my butt with her hand

but drops to her knees

and pounds my ass

with passionate kisses

until the cook comes out

for a smoke break

 

she gathers herself and goes inside

he looks at me while lighting a smoke

and says, “she gives great head”

i slide back inside

and hide myself in the work

that needs to be done

 

closing time comes

i get a wink from the staff

before they leave

then i receive a beating

from her tawse

without pause until she

blisters my hips, buttocks

and thighs

followed by a heave sigh

as she has me pleasure

her with my tongue

 

no closing work gets done

we just go to the bar

where she sits and i stand

each with a bottle in hand

and a cigarette in the other

we kiss and grope in-between

each long drink

until empty bottles

send us to bed

 

          *

 

the bar opens every afternoon at four

can’t remember the last day i had off

or ventured further than a few feet

from the doors that lead outside

her place upstairs she supplies

from things delivered from vendors

a couple times a week she goes

to the bank

writes off the gas she puts in her tank

as a business expense

 

my account keeps growing from

paychecks on automatic deposits

and rare royalty payments

just got $200 for a poem from an

established literary magazine

i was able to submit to on-line

on her office computer

 

an old poem

written over four years ago

back when i thought someone

might listen

 

poetry is timeless to everyone

except the poet

 

now i’m just trying to finish a beer

before the doors open

work is such an inconvenience

to an alcoholic’s absolution

 

at least she understands to

saturate before using

 

secret lies and lullabies

everybody has them

i’m drunk as a skunk

without any funk

resupplying the whiskey and gin

 

the big breasted bartender

wearing a sports bra and jean shorts

tattoos clawing both of her arms

just grabbed my ass

i look around

the manager is nowhere to be found

and kiss her cheek

she presses her breasts against my arm

whispers, “if you ever get tired of that

fucking whore you can take me up the ass”

i force my hand inside her top

the other down the back of her shorts

and shove my tongue in her mouth

 

before i pull away i say

“slip me your address

and i’ll slip inside”

 

they patrons start pouring in

two at the farthest table

order tonic and gin

i go to grab their order

and she gives me an extra napkin

with her handwriting on it

 

every time i come to the bar to help

she slips me a shot

the manager breaks her for lunch

and she heads out back for a smoke

i join her

push her top up and suck on her breasts

while my hand goes down below

to insert my finger

she digs her nails into the back of my head

growls out, “you goddamn motherfucker”

as she lubricates my hand with her cum

 

i leave her to linger in a cigarette

and wash the dirty glasses at the bar

the manager moves close enough

for me to hear her whisper

i can smell her intoxication on her breath

“i’m going to need some serious attention

tonight

“yes ma’am” i reply

her eyes glisten ‘satisfied’

and i go off to bus the empty tables

 

          *

 

our young impressionable minds

are landfills for everybody’s garbage

until it is toxic with lies

we try to live up to

the soil so saturated

it is like a thread sewn into every

weave of the fabric

influencing its design

we are so told what to be

we are never really free

from this foundation

our conscience a creation

of the collective

 

i have always been who i am

so such the opposite of their demands

i’ve always been on something

always gone from job to job

moved from place to place

until the memory of me is erased

and don’t get me started

on the number of women

i have played touch and go with

 

for so long i listened

to their lingering voices

that said i was wrong

echoes that still gong

like a lonely bell calling the sinner

to sunday morning service

and the care that should be taken

to cultivate a creature of habit

 

i just want to grab it and go

a good time is all i’m interested in having

but i always sprinkled it with their qualms

getting along at a pace

that would only allow me to take a taste

at a time

deluding myself i was somehow in line

with their lingo

responsibility drives the till

you can have your fill

after the harvest

 

and so i say i’m going out for the day

invade the bartender’s apartment

show up for work

kiss my manager hello

with a tongue that has done

things i will never mention

in the montage of memories

she and i are manufacturing

 

we fit in a few shots

before the parking lot is filled

with the sober seeking our swill

to wring out their lives

compromised for the lies

never comprehending their own blame

for staying in the game

seething complaints of the taint

the wealth of their restraint

it’s because of someone else

that they can’t secure sobriety

 

but it has nothing to do with me

i’ve taken responsibilities

all that everyone said i should be

and flushed it down the toilet

along with the vomit

induced by too much alcohol

 

we are closed now

and i’m cleaning the bathroom stall

she comes in

it’s just she and i again

and asks where i went today

“a bookstore, looking for

a book they didn’t have”

 

“i don’t like it when you’re gone”

and suddenly i realize she is holding her cane

i strip as she reigns

and makes me kneel before the toilet

she makes me lick its rim

as she thrashes my backside

 

naked behind the bar

i make her an irish car bomb

light her cigarette

come around and kneel

before her barstool

my head under her skirt

my tongue inundating her panties

with saliva

until she adds to the saturate

unleashing the flood gates

of her orgasm

 

after her spasms

she has me make drinks for both of us

light two more cigarettes

but she keeps taking the lit end of hers

and touching it to my balls

removes the belt cinched around her waist

and with haste has me enter her

as she pulls me on top upon the floor

i thrust all the more

as she strikes my bottom that is already sore

with the buckle of the belt

 

we melt then go back to making mixed drinks

and smoking cigarettes until the jameson is gone

move onto seven and sevens

get woken by the back door bell

from a liquor vendor making a delivery

 

she checks him in while i make coffee

he always stays too long to talk too much

even puts away the order for us

constantly staring at her breasts

as she didn’t bother to put her bra back on

before i know it their gone

in the cab of his truck

he gets in a fuck

while i go upstairs to get cleaned up

in preparation for the hours of operation

 

she comes back inside as the staff arrives

goes upstairs for her share of a shower

while her staff gets the doors open

and the liquor starts to flow

 

the bartender lets me know

that when i came over

i failed to put it in her ass

i whisper, “we’ll discuss my

punishment later”

her eyes light up

like a sun in supernova

 

halfway through the shift

her hand comes down hard

on my ass

but she scurries away

when she realizes

the manager is watching

 

we close and everyone goes

to clock out

but the manager asks

the bartender to stay

to help with inventory

 

with everyone else gone

the manager procures her tawse

hands it to the bartender

telling her to go first

 

naked i’m draped over a barstool

my wrists and ankles

bound securely to its legs

with industrial zip ties

 

the bartender beats me unconscious

the manager revives me with smelling salts

and takes her turn

then takes the bartender by the hand

and leads her to the door marked private

unlocks it

the door closes behind them

and they don’t re-emerge

until morning to finally release me 

but won’t let me go pee

until i put coffee and breakfast

before them on the bar

 

then with cigarettes in hand

they demand shots of whiskey

they let me pour three

fireball becoming my breakfast

 

the shots and the cigarettes end

they go to take a shower together

as i let the first customers in

and the cook who is late

rushes to the kitchen

 

          *

 

the terrace with trees

is trestle in threes

at this place we’re having dinner

she hired two more staff

and gave she and i the night off

 

we walk around what’s called the village

pillage my flask

until she buys something to refill it

she is holding my hand while we’re walking

neither of us really talking

until she asks what i’d really like to do

“go to the beach”

she calls an uber into reach

and we take in the smells and sounds

of a beach in late night’s darkness

 

a bar isn’t far

and we take up residence

drink without suspense

till she books us a room right next door

from some app on her phone

 

in the room all alone

the tenderness of our love making

touches the bed

and we drift off like two forks in a spoon

 

          *

 

jacob star won’t go far

without a car to drive

living at the local bar

in swallow suicide

 

endless supply which is imbibed

always unindemnified

the seven sins of deadly gin

evolution never created the devil that’s inside

 

i’ve been with her and then with her

and then with her again

the ripples caused from silken skin

are where the waters stir

 

reinventing seven drinks

by mixing into one

poured into the coffee pot

to super size some fun

 

passed around to all the staff

who wake up on the floor

closing time when two o’clock chimes

shirking all the chores

 

hair of the dog we unclog

unto another day

open the door begin to pour

to wash away the gray

 

closing time the rest decline

so it’s just she and i

with just one beer we get in gear

and fuck till morning climbs

 

into the bed to fill the sheets

with just another day

wherein we both drift off to sleep

till time to earn our pay

 

          *

 

out in the back alley having a smoke

a styrofoam container that missed the dumpster

splayed with all its belongings on the ground

two birds squawking at each other

as they pick at it

trying to chase the other off

even though there was more than enough

to fill the belly of two little birds

 

i go back inside

one man has spilt another man’s drink

fists start to fly

all the female staff looking at me

as if it falls within my prerogative

to prohibit

as if i somehow care

about the idolatry of idiots

and existence’s persistence

in keeping such vanity

pumping in the veins in

the flowing vicissitudes

of our version of vitality

proving the banality of

survival of the fittest

where only the premium package

is shipped because it is equipped

for the propagation of perfection

 

in here there is no detection

of a proven theory

just eyes that are bleary

and drunks beating the shit

out of each other

for reasons that aren’t reasons at all

 

          *

 

it matters to me that poe lived

shakespeare, bukowski

but does it matter now for them

 

do we reincarnate

do we suffer for past deeds

do we know halos and harp strings

are we conscious of eternal peace

is there even a soul that’s released

 

or are we just worm food

as non-existent as existence itself

 

or have i just drank too much

again

 

she’s sick in bed

she didn’t even work tonight

i closed the place up

cleaned

left all the cash receipts for her

to deal with tomorrow

 

now i’m just sitting at the bar

with pieces of a lime

seven-up and hendricks gin

all poured into a glass

and then into me

 

and these were the first thoughts

that came to my mind

 

unrefined

unanswered questions

asked by someone who

doesn’t have a clue

addled by the anathema of addiction

 

thinking another cigarette will help

stifle this cough created by smoking

too many cigarettes

 

so many addicts i know

have died alone

nobody by their side

some of them found days

after their heart stopped dancing

to the duress of their addiction

 

and those that heard of their demise

who knew them before the aftermath

of their affliction breathe a sigh of relief

that they have departed and taken

all the hurt they caused with them

 

and every addict knows the acquisition

of addiction and yet still…

 

i don’t know why

i just know we do

 

          *

another payday

another look at my bank account

and the amount that keeps piling

like something stillborn

as i help myself to the bar food and drinks

and slink upstairs to a room

we don’t have to pay to be in

and i find myself thinking about moving on

 

take the money and find somewhere else

to be bored

alcohol tastes the same

no matter where you live

 

but tonight we are echoes within these walls

my cock buried in her ass

she got so drunk she wanted me to spank her

i put her over my knees

used my hand

she laid there

motionless

until suddenly she burst into tears

i picked her up off my lap

dropped her to the floor

on her hands and knees

and entered her with one forceful thrust

 

ashes to ashes, dust to dust

in her ass your lust

gives birth to the death of the seed

of your semen 

 

now we’re naked on the floor

smoking cigarettes and

watching the condensation

drip off our bottles of beer

 

she says she needs to lie down

i help her up the stairs

and into bed

cover her with a blanket

and go back down to the bar

to finish my beer

and light another smoke 

 

          *

 

the august heat on asphalt streets

is absent from the interior of this bar

 

other than back alley cigarettes

i haven’t been outside since…

 

i don’t remember when

 

dazed in a haze of passing days

dancing with nicotine

a fully stocked bar

and whatever one

can make in the kitchen

though some days

i don’t bother to eat at all

 

working in a dive bar

no patrons preach about

possibilities and potential

we’re all on the same page

engined by our addiction

and the only prediction

is the somersault solution

will result in fatal contusions

in the cranial caravan

that will collapse

under the weight

it is incapable of carrying

 

taking such a toll

that we forget our rolls

and sometimes i’m closing

the office door

forcing up her top

and sucking on her breasts

till she drops to her knees

to enable my lust to rest with

some sucking of her own

while other times

she takes a tawse

to my buttocks and thighs

then grinds her bottomless half

on my face so hard

she almost breaks my nose

 

nothing is exposed

when everyone’s only

expectation is existing

on their own excrement

 

in los angeles angels

are never sent to guard

dive bars whose

degradation and downfall

are our definitions

and are all in all

 

for addicts the marriage bed

was consummated so long ago

no one remembers their

anniversary date

 

we are the falling star

which burns up in the atmosphere

and never leaves a remnant

to remember us by

everything disappears in the sky

upon the ground nothing is found

nothing to collect for cross-examination

to cultivate a benefit for humanity

 

at closing time no one can count to three

the bartender always charges more

so she can pocket the difference

 

and drunks with bloody lips

and broken knuckles

can’t even chuckle

cause they don’t know

the joke that was played on them

 

the only mistake anyone makes

is imagining anyone actually cares

and isn’t out to get

more than their fair share

 

the jukebox is locked on local flavor

addicts only have muddled memories

of what use to make them happy

mixing it with their ice cubes and limes

running out of time without realizing

their wealth of regrets

and all those who won’t wish to reconnect

as they dance on their death beds

everyone else feeling they are better off

nothing has been lost

that they didn’t lose long ago

 

and those who die in their sleep

will be the recipient of a small mercy

 

          *

 

quiet is the query without qualms

questions gazing from the psalms

in here no eyes are lifted upwards

and holiness has a different meaning

worn out shirts in need of cleaning

and random holes from burning ashes

of a cigarette that weren’t flicked

far enough away by fingers

yellow from nicotine stains

 

the circle of life

is just a recycled day

feeding your addiction

is the life, the truth and the way

you’ll do anything

agree to anything

so long as it ends

in the expectation

of your addiction

like lovers high from a kiss

your bliss is at the bottom of a bottle

or inhaled

or the impale of a needle

everything else is just

an inconvenience

existing in the in-between

and the final scene

is a consequence of capitulation

captured in a photograph

to distorted for enhancement

to make anything clear

 

yes there is fear

if you are functional enough

for the final hour

but the aching for absolution

is absent of any acquiescence

that you would actually abscond

from your addiction

if you could do it all over again

 

the rescind of repentance

is never given admittance

in the diocese of your addiction

 

my prediction is more

in the works that evidence

my true beliefs

the relief of carnal pleasures

everything that i treasure

we are doing right now

 

we sank shots until closing

now amid another empty bottle

we are posing in positions

that mimics missionaries on their knees

 

first her than me

fellatio and flagellations

followed by the top from another bottle

bordered by an ash tray

and an almost empty packet of cigarettes

devoid of regrets reverberated

in repercussions

we clink our glasses

saying when it comes to passing

it will have been worth it

 

          *

 

seeking sideways satisfaction

leveling the last class action

answers authored in abyss

it’s closing, time to clean the piss

off the floor, toilet and walls

someone shit and missed it all

 

the bathroom’s clean let’s reconvene

into our after party scene

she and i or i and she

closing chores and now it’s three

existing in our ecosystem

twelve ounce curls within this gym

 

a riding crop is on the bar

last week’s cane has left some scars

but she will beat and tenderize

the flesh upon my ass and thighs

cum by tongue, return the favor

smokes and seagram’s we will savor

 

the dawn will spawn another day

and we will wile the hours away

passed out on the hardwood floor

come to to do it all once more

opening time, already drunk

sober’s a myth that we debunk

 

          *

 

closing

she was staggering

we followed her outside

she was coiffured

with a shiny red car

must have wanted to see

how the other half lives

 

we called her a lyft

yes, they even come

to this neighborhood

 

we both lit cigarettes

watching her being whisked away

i didn’t remember her name

they always say

but i never really listen

 

her license plate,

“hey nicky”

that makes it easy to recall

 

no longer involved

we re-enter our rehabilitation

our permanent vacation

 

haggard

but not yet able to mimic her stagger

we twist the top off the titos

and just pass the bottle back and forth

 

she goes south as i go north

my field becomes un-fallow

she swallows

and i hand her the half empty bottle

light two cigarettes at the same time

and give her one

 

absence of sun

in the silhouette supplied by shadows

shaping the vapors vacillating

in the victory of a bracing breeze

 

we ease into our escapism

where excess and existence co-exist

remiss is not part of our bliss

as i select “take it to the limit”

by the eagles one more time

 

she lays naked on the bar

and i salt her nipples

put a lime wedge between her lips

down, not sip, a shot of whiskey

but forget the order of salt and lime

finish the rhyme

by focusing on her breasts

the hardness of her nipples

makes me a welcomed guest

without protest

as i position myself on top of her

for my second orgasm of the night

 

we finish the bottle until our flight

debris into a crash landing

the sonar is sounding

mapping a terrain

the devil wishes had been

part of the original blueprints

for the hopelessness of hell

 

          *

 

folding the empty page of forever

we severed with her suicide

i wasn’t even the one who found her

she did it during hours of operation

a co-worker opened her office door

found her on the floor

an empty bottle of sleeping pills

on her desk next to an empty bottle

of our finest whiskey

a foam of vomit liquid on her lips

and layered on the carpet

close to where her face

found its final resting place

 

authorities were called

and the owner whom

i had never seen before showed up

simply stating he would take over

running the day to day

until he found her replacement

 

he had no clue i had been sharing her room

nor did i tell him and the next morning

i gathered anything i cared about

and caught a bus beyond the boundaries

of this neighborhood that had almost named me

 

all the money that had been congregating

into the collection plate of my checking account

came into play

i rented a room at a motel that specializes

in extended stays and have been focusing

on being un-focused now for days

 

god is patient but the devil urges us on

like a butcher among the shadows of sheep

tying to reap the people pouring a foundation

of plans which are in development

but the only thing i’m unfolding

is a piece of paper filled with fragments

of a forgotten language

 

even though i’m showered and shaved

and have on clean clothes

i strike a pose among the homeless

who are squatting within a riverbed

so desperate they can only beg

for the follicles that clog the drains

which contain the refuse of abundance

 

i’m passing around a bottle so big

it takes two hands to take a swig

so no one is requesting a reason

for my reconnaissance

although each one has lent themselves

to telling me about efforts in existence

that will extract them from the fragrances

found in garbage

each one having their say as they hold the bottle

but when the bottle comes back to me

i take huge gulps that equal three

and pass the bottle back around

then without a sound i light a smoke

toss the rest of the pack

into the sunshine that cloaks

the middle of their circle

and walk away from their

weathered faces

 

fondle a bottle at the first liquor store i find

buy it along with a pack of cigarettes

then reconnect with the emptiness

of the absolute meaninglessness

of the days that litter los angeles

 

everywhere you go nobody knows

anything about you

but for some reason they

dance with an etiquette

that projects a pretense

that they care

as they share a slice

of their advice

 

i exhale smoke

snuff out another cigarette

return to my room

which i gloom

by hanging the bed spread

over the closed curtains

and re-focus on being un-focused

 

          *

 

anger abides but i hide

in absolute indifference

your idolatry is insignificant

to my eyes

and your judgments

for what i prize

are weightless in

my space and time

that manages to gather

without your definitions

of gravity

 

amid my depravity

where it use to be

me and she

i now wake up next to nothing

but an empty bottle in my bed

even less in my head

 

people think you are

not the way they think

you should be

and that you should change

 

the hardened soil on the range

of their unfertilized minds

will not allow anything

to seep in

so they can’t even entertain

an inkling of an idea

that invites my individuality

and how i am free

from any incarceration

of their decrees

and all the reasons

i don’t agree

because understanding me

would require effort

and an exegesis outside

their comfort zone

 

so alone i have beer for breakfast

a cigarette

i won’t pay your debts

because i know there are

no such things as creditors

unless you allow them

to place a lien against

all that you value

so they can take from you

even your hidden dreams

as they repossess your schemes

until you have nothing

to barter with and surrender

the habitation of your sense

that something isn’t quite right

with their righteousness

 

me?

i’m gonna chase this beer

with a bottle of whiskey

un-install all the apps

downloaded into my mind

until the screen is blank

and there is nothing anyone

can control with a tap

of their finger

 

and in the erasure and emptiness

of a bottle and my mind

i will have accomplished

nothing that you name

as necessary and my responsibility

in the workload of your worries

you wear as part of the latest fashion

 

you do not care about me

beyond the consternation that is

corrupting your cohesiveness

 

          *