uncalled for

i dont know what i did. or didnt.
i dont know her number.
i hope she dont know mine
but it hurts like she does,
like she doesn't mind

you get behind things
and they dont win
you get out of time
it gets mean then

you want it like it was
but you know whats what
what happened can't help
what's coming

the game is the game

gone shootin

i stood by myself, leaning against the wall at an empty table set for two. the chairs were gone; a group at the back had taken them to fill out a loose circle. i knew some of the people opposite me, collected inside the fogged up alcove.

most of them were from the hair salon; it was a cutter named jessicat's birthday. i was pretty high when i got there; i'd already been there for a few earlier in the night. some others i sorta knew from around.

it was a good busy; you could move around, but there were no free chairs.

the girl in the ponytail was still there. a big guy was leaning over her, tipping his flat pint over his gut. she'd turn her head and get a glance of me. it seemed like i wobbled each time.

the dj was not impressing me. saturday night in toronto you can't get away with bullshit nineties radio rock. i wanted to kill him, but instead i went outside and got more stoned.