my favourite

part about being drunk is when
I hold the end of a cigarette by the flame
it doesn’t burn my fingers

I am invincible

I love when I’m drunk
and you weave your fingertips through
the holes in my tights

close but not enough

if I’m drunk enough I’ll let you
walk me back to your apartment in Bushwick

the hallways looking
like The Overlook Hotel

while you push me onto your bed and tell me
all you want to do is lay naked next to me

next thing you know I am your outlet

I am a thousand resonating nos

mine is every body you’ve ever wanted
covered with glass

and you wind my hair around your palm
and I am drunk
off the New York skyline
off the back of an Audi
off a taco truck in a bar

that I submit
and I beg you
to fill all my holes

Doe-eyed girl across the bar
Acting a shy two-step in the corner
No doubt this is a night not for you -
a night where one must evade man.

No doubt many wish to remove you from this venue -
Wish to feel the wetness of your lips -
Wish to hear the squelch, slap, and drip of intimacy.

I am no different than many.

But, doe-eyed girl,
I also wish to join your shuffle -
and turn acting into dancing.

Doe-eyed girl -
We can hold each other in a swaying upright embrace
'til the dye of your red shirt stains my hand,
and the blue of your jeans rubs off on my finger.

But, for now, I admire in between my own act -
in my own corner.

I have brought to you your question
Brought to you direction
Listen,
It's not a competition
Don't petition
Resist them
What's your position
Your mind fruition
You list it
Twist it
Missed it.

An empty pub is the worst place to be,
In a city, Where even gods stay a bit longer every year,
Perhaps persuaded by the halcyon laughter of that half dressed street urchin,
Who has learnt to celebrate her comical existence,
In the pregnant underbelly of a false saint,
Who refuses to give birth to anything but naked poverty.

Small wonder the gods have never chosen to intervene in the city of joy,
After all its the fault of these urchins  who refuse to abandon their filthy smiles,
And have the audacity to peak through the walls that we annually paint,
With the victorious colours of human values.

But why do they peek,
Isn't their world filled with the unmatched profoundness of black and white photography?
Isn't their world the home to poetic muses and romantic poverty ?
Indeed, why do they peek ?
Before the label on the bottle in front of me,
Makes you judge the potency of what I utter,
Let me tell you why.

For them our world is a constant theatrical which has run different shows annually,
Yet the only complaint they have perhaps is that the genre of the shows,
Have somehow never changed.

Its always been the darkest of satires,
Like the running satire in which half our society,
Sitting safe within the beautiful walls ,
We built around our indomitable prosperity and culture ,
Indulges,
In the hysterical condemnation of a man,
Who wants to build a beautiful wall on a different continent .
To protect the same

You know, I don't speak urchin-tongue,
But I have always had the gift to read feelings I shouldn’t,
And something tells me the urchins have titled this theatrical,
“Moral *******”.

But that’s not all,
An empty pub is the worst place to be in a city which refuses to let you give up hope,
And gently reminds you with every drink
That even when the rest of the world is out there dancing,
To the drum beats of happy endings and ephemeral farewells,
There’s one place that will never close its doors on you.

The only thing is.
The place isn’t the home you never ended up building with her,
It’s just an empty pub.

And that is why an empty pub is the worst place to be.

Sitting in a darkened bar
Ten dead soldiers in a row
My bladder was now screaming
It's time for you to go

I ordered up another drink
Left my seat, went down the hall
And on my way back to the bar
I saw a number on the wall

Help...it said, is close, close by
It's nearer than you think
Call, the number that you see
Before you order your next drink

I thought, it doesn't make much sense
I've got my life under control
I haven't bottomed out quite yet
I'm only half way down the hole

Four more drinks and then again
I stumbled down the hall
And coming back, I once more read
The notice on the wall

Help...it said, is close, close by
It's nearer than you think
Call, the number that you see
Before you order your next drink

I put a dime into the payphone
I thought I'd give it one good try
Before I hit rock bottom
I'd call them up or else I'd die

A friendly voice responded
"out of service...try again"
I laughed at this short message
Then I tried it once again

I checked the number on the notice
Dialed it, and then I heard
the message "out of service"
I laughed at every word

It seems that "out of service"
Was a title I should hold
After all I was a soldier
Out of work, and drunk, and cold

Those three words, they described me
"Out of service" , right bang on
No one cared that I was falling
Who would notice when I'm gone?

I went back to my barstool
Downed my drink and got one more
I thought, I'd better have another
Before I stumbled out the door

Before I went, I ventured
To the jukebox, checked for change
The sign said "out of service"
I thought that that was strange

Twice now, "out of service"
In a message sent to me
Was I truly worth redemption
A hopeless case for all to see

I figured that tomorrow
If I found I woke up dead
"out of service" were the last words
That were emblazoned in my head

I went back to the barkeep
Ordered one more for the road
Then I downed another soldier
"out of service" number stowed

I'd laugh on this tomorrow
If I made it through this night
I was truly "out of service"
I need help to find the light.

Last night I went out for a beer
Down to my local bar
While I was there I do believe
I saw a falling star

I ordered up a beer and shot
Sat down, to waste some time
When I heard a gruff voice rumble
Two seats down from mine

"Shut that juke box off barkeep"
"I can't stand to hear that voice"
"I'd rather rip my ears off"
"If I truly had the choice"

The barkeep wandered back a bit
Turned the sound down for a while
I kept on at my beer and then
I ordered two more, with a smile

"Send one down to him" I said
"Let him pick a song on me"
"He can choose whatever song he wants"
"And tell him, this one's free"

The barkeep served the beer on up
The man turned and looked my way
He said "I thank you for the beer, kind sir"
"But there's nothing there to play"

About an hour passed before
The band took to the stage
They broke into an old, old song
And the man, yelled out with rage

"I don't need to hear that song"
"I hate it, don't you know"
"Play anything else you want to play"
"But, cut that from your show"

The band continued playing
The man got mad as hell
"I hate that song, I told you"
"You can all now go to hell"

I watched the barkeep move in
He whispered close so none could hear
The man, sat back in silence
I wonder what was whispered in his ear

I ordered up a beer for me,
With two shots, and then moved stools
When I got beside me
He said "Do you think that I'm a fool?"

I said, "just have a drink bud"
"Let the band play what they want"
Then he turned and looked on through me
With dead eyes and face so gaunt

"Son, I wrote that ****** song"
"I sang it all my life"
"I wrote it for the one I loved"
"She used to be my wife"

"While I was  singing songs for her"
"She was flat out on her back"
"For everyone who came for me"
"She had two more in the sack"

"I used to play the music boy"
"And I used to play it well"
"Now, I'm just a stinking drunk"
"With one foot set in hell"

"I used to have a tour bus"
"Play two hundred shows a year"
"Now, I sit and wallow"
"I live on charity and beer"

"I started drinking on the road"
"Couldn't sing, I couldn't feel"
"I couldn't sing the words I wrote"
"The feeling wasn't real"

"I fell into a bottle, son"
"About ten years ago"
"I haven't reached the bottom yet"
"I've still a ways to go"

"She took my words away from me"
"Stomped my heart and made it dust"
"She took all I ever had"
"My words, my love, my trust"

"I thank you for the beer boy"
"But, I am just a hopeless case"
"I used to be a someone once"
"Now, I take up space"

The barkeep, set up two more beers
He said "These one's here  are free"
"Your words, they still have meaning"
"At least they do...to me"

The band struck up another
It was one that we all new
I could see him start to shaking
I guess he wrote this too

He told me boy "it's kinda tough"
"Knowing all I had is dead"
"I keep hearing myself singing these"
"But, only in my head"

"Three nights a week I spend the night"
"At the lockup, drunk as hell"
"Because, I just can't stand to hear my songs"
"And the stories that they tell"

I finished up, and shook his hand
Paid my tab and turned to go
From behind me, I heard "thank you"
"I just thought that you should know"

Tonight, I went out for a beer
I went to my local bar
Two seats from me I guess I saw
A real life falling star.