Meeting you
well that was the best
hangover I ever had
took me two bottles of scotch
and nicoteen  for breakfast
just to forget you.

sitting in the ****** sunlight
pondering **** Jagger
and who’ll inherit his lips when he dies.
smoke chains from my mouth and
Motown comes to mind.
What I Got is a pregnant cat
with cautious green eyes.
what i think i’ll do is wait,
but when will i stop?

i’ve read my calendars
birthed my charts
and i still can’t decide.

wind blows up my shirt
school buses scream by.
Hey, Children, Hi.

my nicoteen teeth burp
and i’m pushing out a cigarette
heading back inside.

milk within still cup
the rock you sit upon by sea
to the tanks inside lessons gone
to the bulging sky within sky
coming peach within rising grey
cities enveloped below their own dust
where the final creature crawls
forward
stomach flat upon grain
walking;
adding dance to hymn
playing in sparse rooms
yellow gloves
from nicoteen
shedding every song
from the strings they pull
placing documents inside briefcases
and letting them all fly
calling the one book a lie
drinking the storm like a cocktail
and flooring that pedal
so that the highway runs away
to the hum of sun
and remains
itself; remembering

itself.