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Dec 2015
Unsettled lines, scores of blank words on the page, here I sit, smiling into the grit that found its way to the bottom of the coffee, settled at last

Like silt in the water tanks, stirred up by eager hands, the same that bear the scars of childhood into tired, sterile, lives; brushed off the stray dandelion feather a while ago

Gutters full of humanity discarded, smiling from the sidewalk as a million people shove by, this bundle of gray hair, emaciated arms, arthritic hands

Beggars bracelets, two for the price of one, a smile used often & certain of the uncertainty of life, been and seen I suppose

Buildings like beehives & 5 baht to take a ****,
beer courage & the sticky sweat of wanderer’s inebriation

Kids in the street following the trash truck for pocket change, a bottle of the strong stuff to keep it all moving

She smiled and I knew she was the one, to serve us drinks on a Buddhist holiday, grabbing tinted bottles from the stained bar wood, a gamblers grin over naked shoulders

The combination of nicotine & caffeine & strong drink, a *******’s blend, a broken moment in a sea of people, humbled by flashing neon & blank expressions, not pausing once to take in the madness of it

Like silt, we have found our way to the bottom again, the bottom of another tasteless cigarette, the bottom of another ****** bottle

Sunken chest sighs and yellow eyed smiles among the standing water of side streets & nameless alleys, accumulating life’s backwash, out of view for your convenience

Easier to change the channel & focus on what really matters, celebrity, fashion, a certain star’s daily interactions & a reality T.V. show to take a tour of their mansions

Worshiping fools, selling our minds for 3 easy payments of nineteen ninety five, delivered to your doorstep

Import your soul, bury it all in soil, sell your heart for a meaningless monetary sum, bury it all a foot down

4 a.m. & I can feel the tide winding its way down, leaving new patterns in the sand and garbage left behind

In broken English we pass the bottle & I learn that it’s easy to make a living selling cigarettes on the street to foreigners

We stumble our separate ways & I stand four stories up, the rain filling the gutters & pipes like *****, washing away the grime, replacing it with ozone & the scent of sewer

The girl with the heart necklace & orchids in her basket, a brief glance as we crossed paths, I still wonder who you could be

Buried in sighs, we weave our time out of glass, we twist & turn our lives into spires of wax, wilting wicks, the brightest seem to burn out first

Sitting in our own nowhere, you asked me if I loved you, told me to lie, I’m glad you gave me the easy out, I didn't want to hurt your feelings

I remember the look on your face those dark mornings, sipping gin and water, we watched the sun rise another day

Light the last cigarette & take our first step, I hope to see you around kid
Patrick Kennon
Written by
Patrick Kennon  33/M/x
(33/M/x)   
441
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