I'm often asked by friends afar
What was that bright and shining star
That led me to this place of joy
To truly savor this, my rather special toy.

Was it the palm trees swaying in the breeze,
The cheeky Pelicans skimming waves with ease,
Florida's sun beaming brightly morn to dusk,
No need of taking weather Gods to task.

Miles of sand flanking the beach side road,
Reflections of my sportscar sleek and broad,
Cutting the air with startling grace
A glorious rumble heralding its pace.

Heads turning then blinded by the sheen,
A glimpse of Its lustrous body powerful and lean,
What better way to pass a perfect day
So far from all that usual fray.

Harmony and peace can come in many forms,
No need to heed convention, stated norms,
This passion shared by us the few,
Underneath that sky of blinding blue.

All I want to do
is finish this half-eaten cheeseburger
I found in the parking lot at work.
It can't be more than a day old.

All I want to do
is smoke the last of that man's cigarette
I just watched him put it out
and I'm really getting desperate.

All I want to do
is have *** in the backseat of your sportscar
because I know we would fog it up quickly
and no one could see me kiss your neck.

All I want to do
is smoke the rest of this garbage ****
so I can get a headache to
get rid of this headache.
Not to mention these
bone dry blues.

All I want to do
is finish this bottle of bourbon
just between the two of us
So then I can watch
your face melt into the sunset and we
can both do things that
We'll live to regret.

We can both do things.
We can both live.

He beams as he enters my bedroom
Holding a glass bottle
Bout a liter with a light label
Ether? (i was already down a hot dessert road with a pint of it in the back on the way to Las Vegas in a red sportscar)
No my son
Embalming fluid

Quickly we scrounge for money
And with almost zero effort
We had an eighth of some funk
We feel rich as we walk
And the rain falls

A good omen
As we smoke a cigarette near the retention pond
A falcon picked up a black snake and carried it over the trees

Marijuana soaked in embalming fluid
The bodies are emptied and filled to help slow down decomposition

He reads from Encyclopedia Britannica about embalming
I imagine ancient  humans sitting around a fire in the center of the dessert
They are throwing  massive amounts of marijuana on the fire
Inventing gods and dancing

They were each dipped and allowed to fully dry
We talk about all the **** our egos have snagged lately
As he packs

The hit
Like plastic to the tongue
My lungs become black in an instant
Filled with an acrid white smoke
Exhale the soul
****, that was fast
Stillness in everything
The building vibration at the base of my skull
Reverberating through me
each word
        Spirals off into thousands
Of volumes of information
The processing power
Of the machine
Capable of this existence
the psychotic episode of existence
It tries to talk
Surely it thinks it is something
How fine it is to know that it will all one day end
In an instant neither dark nor light I will die
And I have no fear of this
An instant of life
Boiling over to its brim in thoughts
To feel one moment of true ignorant blissful love of another soul
Love just another reaction to instinct
That we love to label with
Big long pages of words
And inventions to make
Them faster until everyone knows what life should be like

Seated so low in your sportscar
You still look down on me in my
Torn and ***** workwear.

But know this: I stood on the floor of your
Basement garage, and saw only sky.
Your luxury apartment was air.

The rough concrete behind your walls
Were those of my workplace. I know
Things about your bedroom you never
Will.

I don't want your respect; I don't need it.
I helped deliver your million dollar baby.
I have seen your home
Naked.

Some like rocket red
Or the sheen of bright green
I prefer pastels

Some like shocking pink
Others are mellowed by banana yellow
I prefer pastels

Navy blue for bigger boys
Or **** sportscar red
I prefer pastels

Forest green seduces some
Purple for my mum
I prefer pastels

Subdued, subtle, soft
I prefer pastels

But black is cool too

Sean Hunt
Feb 13th 2015