8.23.2012

bar conversations

bad conversation
like cheap cologne,
following babies and bullshiters,
mouths running marathons,
stumbling on the sidewalk

Ugly chitter chatter
and awful jokes, fake and
real laughter,
a loud motorcycle driving by
silences the crowd for
a brief moment

as an ash falls to the ground.

wordsong

So many things
       trying to be words,

my smoke, your thoughts,
the thin line between
   being and existing,

undone feelings behind
unfinished walls
moonlight glistening off their
silver facade as silent
stars trace words
in the midnight sky.

Whish whooshing drone song of
the passing car, thud-thud, thud-thud
as it passes over
        crosswalk lines.

The gradual increasing tone
of the drone as it approaches
    and leaves.

Ssssssssccchhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew,


as no sound breaks the
quiet fog,
     
     where
   wet cement absorbs
          footsteps
    and your breath
      gets lost,
  lights flicker and fray,
     words become
        useless,
where the wind moves
and the fog's still.

Trying to become aware of my
  body, being slowly swallowed
as nighttime's scab,
  inconspicuous and itchy
       and lonely

waiting to be picked off and
 thrown out.

Serene smoking meditation

Serene cigarette meditation,
smoke from my lungs
fills the garage,
and creaky rats
squeak in pain.

I ask on myself
questioning the
notched dime
before me.

Whirlpools of smoke,
ash ember glowing
light energy.

Heat energy out my lungs
into the world, into
my lungs, out into
the room, again.

The spirit smoke before bed
waiting for glistening
stones in front of
empty doorways.

Smoggish air, taking
in the last inhale,
holding it in, eyes closed,
taking in all the sounds, reaching
blindly for the ashtray with my
right hand.

Ember out, no sound, but
the rhythmic crickets
and bouncing purple
laundry.

Thursday

Unclaimed table at the
boisterous bar,
the nighttime I needed,
drinking the first beer slow,
writing like I like to do.

Inescapable sights,
the smell of a
Black & Mild sneaking
into the senses,
loud sounds and loud voices
piercing the silent night
like a needle in a plum
injecting madness through
it's wet juicy meat,
             when,

I dip to the alley,
experience serene smoking,
energy exchanging hands.

Dissipating daydream now,
watching my pretty girl in the
passing wind, her soft infectious
      voice,
her swaying in her
slight drunkenness,
and now, as she caresses
      my leg,
 curling up like a needy
      cat,

she chills,
I finish her beer for
her,
softness skin
sure of seductive touch.
The madness and sultry
  voices echoing off
    bar walls like
      bouncing red
        balls.