the kid

the flame is agent
to our habit. it's the ice
keeps the company cool.

some girls

show downtown

can't pay attention

He doesn't want to want to go to the bar again. but there he is, standing in the doorway of Leo's, completely unable to imagine any place else to spend his money. it wasn't that Herman Guild didn't have goals. More that he liked to drink.

it was easy living in the city and Leo's was the easiest place going. Herman had a running advantage over most of the other regulars in that he reliably supplied extraordinary tips. that got him things like the occassional car bomb, gratis. or sometimes a telephone call in the kitchen.

he didn't want to want to go in the bar again. and there he is, standing in the doorway.

love is a fire

blackwood

i'm rough on the keyboard. i like the old things. old things for me.

there was a girl. four years ago we knew each other in bed. tonight we know each other better.

she has such small shoulders. we have such bad habits.

she's tougher now than she was, and more tired looking. but she's also calmer, looks around more often. when she looks at me i like it.

she breaks the strings on my guitar trying to tune them while i fuck around with bad cables. we smoke. she empties her purse on my couch looking for something.

her small hard shoulder bumps into me, and she looks out the open door every other minute. I keep thinking she's gonna run for it, and then she'll turn and hug me and say she loves me.

coasters

you can't explain circles to squares.

dumb fucking luck

butch looks off
the steering wheel:
marcellus.

gathering concern

just before sunset, Sunshine finally shows up. almost three hours late. alone.

she slides in across from me at the picnic table and roots around in her purse; all pastey and shakey curtained by liquored-out hair.

'so, where is he?' i finally have to ask.

'not coming.'

'not coming. this is unbelievable.'

she gives me the sideways death stare.

'what went wrong?'

'you don't want to know. light?'

no. i quit.'

'i liked you better when you smoked.'

'what's the difference?'

'all the eye contact.'

'you know, there's an envelope to all this. to their patience.' i try to make it even-handed, 'everyone is aware you're under pressure sunshine, but there is gathering concern...'

no reaction unless you count the predictable stonewall. a heavy silence crept over the deserted parkette. mastering my panic ins't one of my strengths and she knows it. i crack as per usual.

'we're fucked now, you realize that? it's complete calamity. are you registering this Sun? please, tell me what you think my options are.'

'yes!' flourishing a found match she ignites her 100. 'don't be so dire Siggie. it makes you unattractive. life is a comedy remember? you used to say that.'

'please, just tell me what went wrong. tell me something i can tell them.'

she laughs out a smoke plume. 'tell them it was food poisoning.'

cool as kim deal

on the scale

discouraging
pounds
gained.

armed and dangerous

the straightener

i don't know how i met her exactly. you'd be bored by the remembrance. the only reason i'm even thinking about her is because of the velvet underground. not the bar.

i think it's cheap to introduce art to make it seem like taste equals character. but i do it anyway.

i guess there are more obscure ways to tell people you're in love. maybe not telling anyone is the best way.

i don't want another one of the women i always get. but those are exactly the women i can't stop thinking about. the ones that give you excuses to leave everything.

leaving your doors open in the summer means you're gonna get flies.

what goes on

girls in pajamas
with hidden side entrances
just down from the bar

downhill is quicker

dashes for spaces

all i meant
by that is
punctuation