“Stranger Speaks”

Here I go again.

Saturday—beastly good—no rest

no peace no love no truth no beautiful

naked

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

of routine.

The satisfying night leaves me parched,

alone,

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

tomorrow will

never come.

 

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.

Image

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