Here I go again.
Saturday—beastly good—no rest
no peace no love no truth no beautiful
sprawl in my bed because she
rides planes to the mountains
higher than I fly
and here I go again in this
bar, these bodies, this wet vacation
The satisfying night leaves me parched,
to be synapses firing through mud—
–or whiskey-hued romance and
here I go again.
Another round, no make it two,
and again I go here because too much means
This stool is like an alter
and I am God
tonight. She rides away from me
but this brain takes perfect pictures
so I know her smell
better than my own
and no love no beauty but she is gone
and here I go again.