Everywhere

For several moments afterwards
as we lay satisfied, listening to
our deep breathing and to the
dull hum of passing traffic
going everywhere and nowhere,
she said: ‘You certainly
weren’t the first and you
certainly won’t be the last,
but I’ll always remember you’
‘Thanks’ I said:
she was gone before I awoke:
a one-nighter, not even
knowing each other’s names:
she was slim, petite, pretty,
short brown hair, hazel eyes,
small soft hands and she
has a smile, so natural, so
real, true,
that’s what I remember of
her: these 30 years later,
she’d be 60 or so now,
she may be dead, she may
not be and I don’t care,
we were strangers,
then, now, forever,
she’s with me tonight
though, in heaven or hell,
it doesn’t matter,
it’s just the being together
somehow
that counts.

The Transfusion

If she had been
a fictional character
she would have
been Sally Bowles,
her soul sucked dry
by vampires of amour,
her spirits restored
by a raided medicine
chest of uppers, downers,
in betweeners popped
on shifts, before and
after, sucked down
with chilled thermos
cups of imported vodkas
and a masking colored
juice, a queen’s ransom
of alcohol and drugs
ingested every day
of her life even with
the nursing license
on the line, “You don’t
understand what its
like,” She says, “After
that plane crash when
I was a student nurse
trying to administer
aid to the dead and
dying on the scene,
body parts everywhere,
that belonged to no one,
living a nightmare that
never ends so that, now,
whenever I hear a siren
I want to scream.”
So they give her duty
in ER, vacant eyes locked
in a perpetual thousand
yard stare, moving among
the injured wearing a
cloak of doom, a wired
free agent doing field work
for a Master’s Degree in Death.

the inevitable march to the end

another cold
night alone

finishing off
a bottle of
brandy

thinking of
the old flames
that surely have
forgotten about
you

it’s not a fear
of dying alone

it’s the inevitable
march to the end

the tragic nature
of a talent never
fulfilled

the constant
knowing that
no one has
ever taken
the time to
love you

it’s not that
easy to sum
it all up in
a little note

It’s really fucking hot

Outside and not between us.
Imagine if I was drunk right now?
Alone with the vast awareness of self.

My true one.
Nice to see you.
Kind of.
Not really.

This is exactly why I drank.
I’m all I have.
In the end,
no one will entertain me.
I’m the beast I’ve been hunting from day one.
Got ya.

The jig is up.
The spotlights on.

There’s no sounds left but the fan,
oscillating awkwardly around the room.

My true self. Did I mean to get here?
Was I always destined to get what I deserved?
Me. Nothing else.

An eternity of silence.
Quiet moments in which I disappear and show up,
over and over again until the light goes out.

Was there ever a purpose?
For any of us?

It’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard.
The one I’m telling.
Right.
Now.

I put ice cubes around the cat to cool her down.
Feed her a mountain of biscuits because I can’t feed myself.

I’ve been suspended in time for a long time.
Haven’t I?

I’m home safe but don’t tell anyone.
My heart is a stupid, useless toy.

I’m sick of playing so I delete my memories
to chase an honesty this world is yet to know.

Can you hear me?
My mind is full of other people’s thoughts.

We are all terrifying and angry and broken.
Chomping at the bit to get a bit of love.

Never have I ever felt so ordinary
nor did I notice the state of our affairs.

If you look outside you’ll see a world on fire.
If you look inside you’ll get the same effect.

The whole thing is a mirror. An accident.
Flawed from the beginning. Flawed until the end.

I tell myself I’ll make a difference
because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t bother.
The whole show is something I could miss.

God is a structure designed to spare us this feeling.
The dangerous knowing. None of this is real.
None of us are anything or everything.

Don’t say I told you so.

When I wake up, they’ll be nothing left but ash.
An eternal branding, a flag stuck just to say that we were here.

Left to my own devices I’m divisive.
I tunnel underground for preservation and smile at you blankly.
Say the right words to mimic a response.

“It’s really fucking hot.”

So what?

New Orleans Pride

it was a long Labor Day weekend
although weekends never feel long
I took a few days off in
preparation for said weekend
that Wednesday I hurt my knee bad
so I hobbled with every step
fucking great, I thought
I’m going to have to do
a lot of walking this weekend
Thursday
I took the dog to the vet
I watched as my dog took shots
like a champion
a cute blonde with a lip piercing
and tight scrubs hugged my dog tight
and let him lick her in the mouth
as the doctor shot him up with drugs
and inserted a long cylindrical tube
into his anus for a fecal test
this lucky bastard, I thought
tests were negative
the dog healthy
I emptied my wallet and
we went on our way
Friday
the wife and I left for Ocean Springs
ate great barbecue
drank good bourbon and soaked
in a large tub by the bed
the next day we went to an
art walk where I purchased
an original piece from a hipster
I won’t hold that against him
because his work is amazing
we then headed for Biloxi
we gambled a little
ate a lot
and saw the comedian
we were there to see
I had strong drinks from the bar
and weak drinks at the slots
I ran into a coworker who was
feeding machines with hundred after hundred
“push it” he told me
“maybe you’re lucky”
I wasn’t
I never am
Sunday
we drove to New Orleans
as we were getting off on our exit
I turned to my wife and said
“I just remembered, it’s pride weekend”
we made our way toward the hotel bar
rumors have it that Bukowski stayed
there when he was in his twenties
we found a spot on the street to park
less than a block away
we entered the bar and ordered drinks
as we drank we watched
girls and guys walk by with wings attached
dressed in wigs, dresses or much less
I ordered another round and
we decided to take a walk
I fired up a cigar as we walked
I knew what they were probably thinking
me sucking on a long brown stick
many males and females in thongs
and jockstraps
chest harnesses abound
no problems among thousands of people
everyone was so festive and joyous
dancing, laughing, and singing
it’s then I realized how they
probably got their title
I was proud of New Orleans once again

She Is Beautiful

My face just a few inches
from her pussy, her legs
spread wide,
she is beautiful.
and I watch as she
masturbates and
climaxes:
daylight is shutting
down as her
murmurs of pleasure
vastness and people
will begin to make ready
for the evening:
she softly quietens
and lays still as I
move and wrap my
arms around her as
my neighbours close
their curtains and
lock their doors,
shutting out the
world:
she is beautiful,
the street-lighting
sprinkles into being
and small garden
birds are now silent
as she brings me
between the moment
of life and death.

Snake Charmer

You play your flute
maybe strum a guitar
I rise out of the basket
enchanted by the sound
or maybe just hungry

I slither across the white tiled floor
my skin taut and flexing
I hiss at your friends
—the ones you shove me back
into the basket for

You only want me around
when you are lonely
when you make your
sweet musical sounds
and persuade me to coil
around your hips wrap myself
around your penis

Today I want a rat to eat
I shed my skin and now
I’m scaled a high shine
the light makes me iridescent
I’m slick black and deadly
I wait in my basket for you
to come in with your flute
and coax me out

But you leave me alone
I’m still hungry
What will you do
when I outgrow this little hut
make a boot or two out of me?

Your Title To Decide

as this whiskey coats my throat
swells and scars my liver
as the cigar smoke expands
cooks my mouth and hardens my heart
I’m reminded of all the dissatisfied
that came before me
never did what they wanted
refused happiness for whatever reason
all in the guise of tradition or fear
afraid to say the wrong thing
scared to take that drink
or do that drug
petrified to fuck
or fuck who they want
trying not to let a deity down
not disappoint a loved one
make a good impression on a stranger
live a long life
or all of the above
at the same time
you have only one life to live
and it is up to you
how you live that life
some feel living a life of fear
and cautiousness is rewarding
but others crave the unknown
live for the different states
feel free when actions and
speech are not hindered
a tightrope of sorts
existence balanced
still
some fly
yet
some fall

4 a.m. Precious Moments

My boyfriend said in his sleep,
‘I want to read a romance novel
before I die…’
then he farted loudly,
woke up
and hugged me.
I don’t care what the news says,
life is pretty good.