more from echo on canyon blvd

was going to do stuff today

go to the laundry mat

things like that

 

got a cup of coffee

an egg sandwich

across the street

but when they were complete

i opened a beer

and now the fourth one

has disappeared

 

now the only thing i’m planning

is to put out by opening my mouth

wrapping my lips around

the head of a bottle

its contents cascading

as i swallow

 

i may actually do something today

but only if i take a shower

my first one in five days

shave the accumulation

 

when you look clean cut

you can duck into

the scene of the crime

with tequila and lime

without looking like a suspect

 

freedom is getting to choose

your own chains

everyone has something

that choreographs their days

but living within the confines

of someone else’s cause

is tantamount to a

maximum security prison

 

i’ve always prioritized

not getting caught

and brought to a confine

fraught with bars

 

but i’ve also viewed

being part of the societal stew

nothing more than an ingredient

praise worthy and obedient

until unhappiness unhinges

every ulcer known to humanity

as the equivalent

to a life sentence

without the possibility of parole

 

although i’m unsure

what any of this has to do with

this fifth beer i’ve opened

each chased with a cigarette

 

it’s all just acrimony and accusations

 

          *

 

i have four songs

they are all fairly long

maybe i should record an album

upload it

forget

and go forage on the forest floor

 

every second of every day i’m bored

your efforts at entertainment

leaves me expanding without expectation

the only pathway to salvation

is to exorcise enlightenment

be un-

under the sun

and drench like a dialysis

with daiquiris the diagrams

and diagnosis

that deem the dance of bliss

 

till you are so drunk

all you can do is piss

and smile at the minions

and their measurements

of meaning

 

making your way amid the myriad

of manifestos meant to make you

a matter worth consideration

 

you won’t break free

until all their decrees

cascade off your consciousness

imperceptible

like a whisper in the wind

 

because it’s not whether or not it’s true

it’s whether or not it can really do

anything for you

their diction defining distances

you have no interests

in traveling to

that they tell you it is what all should do

one size fits all

doesn’t resonate or create

your uniqueness under their umbrella

 

and you no longer make an effort

at your entrance to entreat their exit

you’re unaffected by their understanding

of the rain

and their complain

that complicates a carousel

that’s meant to be nothing more

than a thing of beauty

that brings enjoyment

in the circles we comfort ourselves with

 

so i lift my finger to indicate

i would like another drink

the bartender ignores the ink

i have incremented into this paper

as he puts another beer on the bar

because after all

the only thing that matters

is what matters to you

 

the on off switch only exists

if you touch it

 

          *

 

only had two cigarettes left

bought a new pack on my way to the bar

the old one and the new one

crowding my shirt pocket

 

i ordered a shot and a beer

smiled at the woman near

we gave notoriety

to what she deemed as my excess

 

i said,

“jesus told his followers:

the time cometh, that whosoever

killeth you will think he doeth god service”

 

in their minds it wasn’t a hate crime

all truth is relative

 

i downed the shot while she slurred,

“what’s that suppose to mean?!”

 

“life, death and marionettes

buying bottles of broken booze

i’m gonna go have a cigarette

relative reasons are why we choose”

 

i grabbed the beer bottle

and went outside

 

now i hide behind the cover

of smoke i exhale

 

idiots endearing indoctrination

if they could only scale

there is no truth only perception

they would never speak

 

what a wonderful world that would be

 

the bottle is empty

but the cocktail server supplies

so i don’t have to go back inside

 

the shot and beer i hastily down

ask the server for another round

notice the help wanted sign

figure i’ll come back tomorrow and apply

when i’m sober

 

pay my tab and leave

don’t want to make a drunken scene

if i’m gonna try and work here

 

there’s a liquor store near

los angeles mirrors seattle

where in front of a coffee shop

there’s a kiosk selling coffee

but in the reflection here the liquor is always near

in the narrow passageways

that never nullify

 

los angeles is the birth place of facades

but behind the velvet veils

are the entrails of meaninglessness

no matter from which angle you photograph

los angeles it appeals to the heart

of this nihilist

and as i walk this dark dirty sidewalk

surrounded by neon and desperation

flashing faster than the heart can beat

i feel i am in the middle of a masterpiece

that will never stop being a work in progress

even though it is perfect as it is

 

i tilt the titos i just bought in a toast

 

this bar looks seedy

i enter in

order a tonic and gin

notice men going in and out

of a room partitioned by a curtain

the bartender is certain

if i have a twenty dollar bill

i can be part of the men

who are sticking their cocks

in a glory hole

 

i pay for my drink and leave

at the next bar

the server won’t receive my order

i’m considered too intoxicated

 

i leave and head back to my place

my mind is erased

as i toss the empty titos

in the trash

and fall onto bed

 

          *

 

haven’t left this room for days

finally shaved and the works

heading out to be drunk

somewhere else other than

within the walls of winless wars

 

forgot that i wanted to apply

for that job

 

it’s already night

i’m among the neon lights

my stomach is growling

guess that beer i fed it

it wasn’t enough

 

onto a barstool i slide

this girl sidles beside

asian, dressed all in black

with black hair, black eyeliner

black lipstick

i think of a black widow spider

i buy her a drink

it turns into three

not sure what she sees in me

 

we grab our beers

go out to have a smoke

she asks if i have a condom

i almost spit out my beer

 

“no”

 

“o.k., i’ll just blow you

where’s your car”

 

“i don’t have one”

 

“we’ll use mine”

 

we leave our beers on a table

walking i wonder if she’s

doing this to charge me money

but she doesn’t say a word

after she satisfies

so i offer to buy her another drink

 

our beers are still on the table outside

so we light our smokes and keep drinking

she asks, so i tell her i live nearby

 

“do you have condoms there?”

 

“yes”

 

“any toys”

 

“just a paddle”

 

“i don’t like to be spanked”

 

“i do”

 

“let’s go”

 

wordless we walk to my walls

i grab two beers from the fridge

 

“where’s the paddle”

 

soon it is in her hand

 

“why are you still dressed”

 

naked amid our excess

i grab the arms of a chair

and become ensnared

in the web of this spider

 

my bottom becomes a canvas

the paddle a brush

her painting is a still life

as red as the ripest apple

 

a condom becomes unnecessary

has she has me bury

my face between her thighs

 

then more beer and cigarettes

we pay our debt to sleep

until sunlight creeps

pass the corners of the curtains

 

i offer to walk her to her car

she simply kisses me while saying

“maybe i’ll see you at the bar”

and closes the door behind her

 

i open a beer and the curtains

watch her wade into the sidewalk

the morning sunlight alighting

upon my naked flesh

 

          *

 

another royalty payment

has made its way into my wilderness

i hate the anonymity that exists

between the writer and the reader

 

am i someone you identify with

or did you read a few pages

and delete me from your tablet

do you know i use your money

to feed my habits

 

this was such a sizeable payment

i’ve planned a trip

at a bus station with my carry on

i take a sip from my flask

the bus driver asks

to see my boarding pass

he hits the gas

toward destinations

 

i pull up a girl’s picture on my phone

i would atone

if it meant she were still in my arms

but the harvest from that farm

came from the seeds i planted

she was taken for granted

and found a farmer

more suitable to husbandry

 

i close my gallery

and drain the contents of my flask

memories never ask for permission

to intrude

calloused and crude they exude

mockery

dangling like strands of sunshine

invoking a line that illicit

an egress to avenues of happiness

where you wander around lost

and no one you ask knows

the right directions

 

alone at the back of the bus

there is no one with which to discuss

my carry on carries

a cauldron of schnapps

i open and serenade the sipping

 

          *

 

got sick of riding the bus

the driver showed disgust

as i departed amid the dust

when we stopped at a desert inn

next to a gas station convenience store

that sold liquor and not much more

all that a thriving community needs

 

for miles in every direction the desert danced

i checked into a room

dropped my bag on the bed

soaked my shirt in the sink

put it back on

bought a six pack at the store

and walked out into the desert

took a piss on a rock so hot

the urine evaporated upon impact

opened a beer and my notebook

and wrote

 

the gentle light of violent storms

became the life that we performed

a dance with chance and circumstance

with waves of laughter and romance

which crash on cliffs that crown the sea

who hide the view of what’s to see

 

a seagull never sings a song

and yet we watch them all day long

pretentious paradoxical sleep

gathering goods from garbage heaps

all needs fulfilled for flesh and bone

where hearts are orphaned in this home

 

the sky may cry unsatisfied

the sea receive a new supply

but nothing new the clouds create

regurgitating what it ate

from the sea like you and me

we grab with hands of amputees

 

day in, day out, day out, day in

we think in lines then chase tail spin

 

now i’ve opened another beer

for the walk back to the room

my shirt is already dry

as i hide in the homelessness

of this heat

like the ghosts which haunt the streets

of los angeles

a hell dwell in the heart beat

of the sweltering sun shine

that leaves the vagabonds undefined

 

i know the solace of simple minds

is to contextually refine definitions

addicts have addictions because their addicts

but some of us have attics

that we’ve empty of all keepsakes

because there is nothing to take

from the past into the present

memory is mesmerized by meaningless motion

even believing this moment matters

is the philosopher grasping for straws

 

i’ve castrated the reproductive organ

of the mind

dissections only reveal limits

so i no longer linger at autopsies

there is a reason that god makes you die

before you can see him

because all you will spy

is him laughing his ass off

 

i reach the room

consume the beer and open another

turn on the air full blast

remove my clothes

strike a pose

like a demigod that has just

danced with the devil

 

and how i got from being raped

on canyon blvd to here

doesn’t fucking matter

 

          *