december 23rd, 2009

Instead of scrapping this poem I removed a few sentence in the middle and now it doesn't bore me.  This is quattro mani reprise which I wrote back in July.

july 29th, 2009

quattro mani reprise

A man with a pierced ear smoked a cigarette and said I’ve been clean 17 months to a seemingly uninterested bum holding a sign made from the cardboard in a 12 pack. I immediately scribbled the moment down on the back of a receipt after I crossed La Cienega. It was summer and the sun was still setting. I enjoy Hollywood sunsets. They’re nothing compared to the ones in San Diego, but those nights meant so little to me. I’m sipping on Quattro Mani again because funds are low and I don’t feel so alone with the red label at my feet. I was asked if I was content tonight and answered as if prompted about the discussion, not my life. The one time someone throws that question my way I fumble the ball and watch it hit the ground. Too bad. He finally came over and took pictures last week and I ended up using what he felt was the “boring” shot. It was everything I wanted. I’m just recovering from Saturday night when Ziggy Stardust danced around the room with us as we laughed and played. Nothing compares to those moments with my leggy beauty of the night.

version two

carry me to bed Freescha

carry me gracefully

because last night I fell

and woke up bleeding

wondering where I was

and why I chose to do the things I did

I was scared

but here I am

and I'm no longer scared

I'm just lonely

the narcissist

the narcissist flips through his book before bed

worrying about typos

and what could have been

the narcissist sips saved white wine

and scowls

the narcissist gives up because

the clock advises so

because he has applied chapstick

for the fifth time

the narcissist has a lot to learn

and so do I

but I look forward to the groan