"No, No Charge"
I said at the bar
in a foreign language

-as he handed me the coconut-

Butting heads
Throwing checks- and chips
across the felt table

the burn
as the shots go down
dont hurt- I turn and say

"Me no parle anglaise"

and she grabbed my hand
in the caffeinated stance
I assumed the trance
and joined the adjacent positions
The bridge
of her nose
disappeared and I continued to ignore the impulsive thoughts I had

So I read up on the positive qualities of coffee
and thought about meaningless ***
contemplated prostitutes- the idea of course-, and laughed in cautious blues  
I thought of one night stands- the ones she would want to have-
and how little they meant
and how insignificant liberty is really
like the empty bottom of a 12 inch tom

But the pounding
and drumming
are coming from my head. no where else
for a man - who wanders in another place- and expects
to know where he's headed.