All my friends they smoke this things
And handed me a Chesterfield King- Jawbreaker from Bivouac

Lyrics I tried to memorize
with my friends, while *******
on the syrup crusted
mouths of  glass coke bottles.
Singing loud and off key.
On the side of a Ralphs in the stagnant summer swelter.

The soundtrack song when being a punk skater
was a profitable venture,
and landing a kick flip was an achievable
*******.

When we could play Lane’s boom box
just loud enough to drown out the whimpering
from our sprained ankles
and scraped up knees
that left the sidewalks on Foothill blvd. so ******.

The music we were hearing now,
was way beyond Sunday school.
It was the sound of the sixth period bell,
and rushing to Jeff’s backyard
to smoke his dads cigarettes.

As we got older
We tried to quit the smokes
and forget the lyrics. But sometimes
we’d still  proposition people
on the side of that Ralphs
to buy us cigarettes.
When we succeeded
We’d sing that old song coughing, hissing, and wheezing.

-Kevin Theal

When I arrived at Brian’s house, the whole room smoked out.
I prayed to God I was walking into a witch burning.
But he was lying on the couch melting
into the cushions, being swallowed and chewed.
Like cud in a cows mouth, slowly sloshing around.

He’s rolling joints on top of college rejection letters.
He doesn’t want help in the most obvious ways:
he wants it in the way couples make suicide pacts.
Glass eyed, he looks at me and grabs
a beer:  no cheers,
no salute, or words
exchanged.

We drink the beer quickly
Aluminum tips to pink lips,
that moose **** taste of natty ice.
As our ******* banter bounces of the walls.
The light bends off Brian’s glasses and flashes in my eyes,
Like the scope of a ****** rifle.

He is fixed on the flashing blue TV screen.
If I’m here or not makes no difference

He puts the joint in his mouth, lights it up.
The flame ignites against his sugar glazed eyes,
his skin stretched tight across his pale face.
Bright blue veins all along his skin,
like highways on a map.
A corpse in a cheap Halloween
costume.

I catch a ghostly outline
of him with all his drop out friends.
Lined up, ****** on the couch.
Jack-o'-lanterns.
Carved with frozen grins,
so weary
and hollowed out.

-Kevin Theal