THE LOST TAPES Vol.9

   Hazel eyes like grossular garnets to garnish the fraise.
   Black jacket over flowery summer dress,
   Walking her dog under the warm summer haze. 

   We exchange glances and get lost in each other’s eyes for a moment or two,
   Touch shoulders, go our separate ways.
   I’ll eventually forget that face
   But her memory will forever be present in the flower of same beauty I picked two blocks away.

***

   Not a model for a statue,
   A goddess, abstract object,
   Metaphysical world, a muse. 

   god could not create beauty so concrete,
   Atoms could not form something so perfect,
   A once in a lifetime sight,
   Reality eclipse, breaks the plan,
   Cuts the mantle in disruption. 

   The simple touch of our shoulders,
   Smell of overwhelming desire inside my nose,
   Sitting at the empty bus stop trying to breath again
   But my body can’t afford to work outside that brief moment, now passed, of pure and genuine love at first glance.

***

   Ollie in mind
   Face on the ground
   Skater boyz making fun of me

***

   Stray dog licking and rolling over horse shit in the middle of the avenue.
   Where did that horse come from, anyway?

***

Tall

   Tall.

12/21 

*** 

   Rainy night, droplets on eyelashes blurring the lamppost lights
   Goth girl throwing up on the stream
   Drunk homeless guy pissing on somebody’s porch 

   Jump in puddle of acid rain
   Soggy jeans clinging to the legs
   Black shirt, nippin
   What is life for but to get your socks wet?

   Skin cold but my body is warm,
   My partner in crime couldn’t hold a donut in her stomach. 

***

   City lights
   Night life
   (pretty sure I wrote this before)
   Off the gig and into the bus, the game plan.
   “Wanna crash at my crib tonight?”
   “No”, is what I meant to say, “Sure” is what came out of my mouth. 

   Goth fucker throwing up in the rain because “her house was right around the corner” but it wasn’t,
   And I’ll have to change my bass’ strings to avoid patina,
   And I’ll have to take her drunk ass home before catching my bus. 

   Door open, throw her under the shower, “wanna join me?”
   This time the no came out; stole a can of Monster, left a note.
   Under the rain again. 

***

   Dead flower in my sketchbook for a year
   Found its way into a stranger’s phone case.
   How meaningless have we become? 

***

   The rejected gift no longer carries any meaning.
   Pitiful existence over the table,
   But my heart is too cold to shed a tear. 

***

Bus so cold. No one to sit next to me and warm me up 

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