Ten days after the beginning of February
Steam milk swirled, bowl of coffee on
Mondrianish table
Shadowed
corner
and a glossy Elvis on wood
Another cigarette in the ashtray
another drumbeat in my head
another fleeting thought
about another fading friend
A slow lapse into mental roadkill...
thoughts dancing like funky armadillos
cactus eyed and surfing the highways towards home.
And I'm feeling like a car crash schizo
Too many things to say, and no way to really say them
heads twist in gasoline frenzy
slow sound
cracking spine
Fall into chiropractic hallucination
T-shirt flashbacks of imagined motorcycle
rides
Side sitting cafe wise, ink stained fingers,
and insides blacker than the clothes I wear
thinking about blood in nicotine glory
burlap eyes... chalk drawn dreams fade fast
I'm wanting....
Wanting to feel that rush of the freeway
Wanting to write what I think like the way I feel
Wanting to manipulate the solidity of words
into emotional abstraction
Wanting another cup of coffee...
Wanting to find a word as cool as Ponderosa
and claim it for my own.
Pulling shots through my fingers and
smearing lattes across the page
with my thumb, and my fingers are shaking
but not enough
Pre spring sky cloud haze
brushes through the windows like warm ghosts
and I'm working on a caffeine overload
Well... I'm wanting a lot, but mostly, I'm waiting
Waiting for life to hit me like an after school
special
like a mocha
louder than cold clear feedback
piercing the atmosphere with razorblade brilliance
Waiting, and I think I've been waiting too long
it's time to go
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