loss two

another loss -ii

We stayed up all the night long tradin’ EDM cuts and smoking, and kept mostly quiet about all the damage our exes done us, knowing in our hearts the damage we done them, too. This here was as close to the street as I ever got, out of luck on the room I had paid for every week for several months, (someone had spotted my cat and complained, again, pets were not allowed) with the half-promise of a room in West Oakland, from the mouth of a corrupt attorney with one foot in the dope game and high all the time. I had no other recourse, none at all! This was twenty eleven. I had only to be willing to scrub and paint a small room full of furniture and covered in multiple cat stank, and I could stay there for the summer. This was the house of a second attorney, an alcoholic moonlighting as a cat doctor at home, who got in over her head on Magnolia by DeFremery Park. The day I met her she asked if I wanted to make a quick buck, and walked me downtown while instructing me how to serve papers. I remember hesitating as I approached the window, a government agent behind glass, and looked back to get a nudge on from under the wild gray-hair, permanent slouch, and a wandering eye. She offered me a drag off her pint of Southern Comfort on the way home. I was fifty bucks richer, cash, and desperate. My unemployment had finally run dry  in this boarding house on 28th @ Telegraph, telling time by Kojak episodes, and my friend whom I shared a room with finally got sick of me or spun out, and bailed. By that time I was already sharing a bed with a punk I met, upstairs, and not around much anymore. On my bicycle most of the days, a Motobecane i had mail-ordered online several months ago, and always brewing pots of some of the finest grounds from Indonesia I procured from Sweet Maria’s down the way, a local coffee distributor a stone’s throw from the Port of Oakland. Didn’t have a job and wasn’t really looking most of the time. PTSD was my common denominator, and divided up my senses, hanging them far and wide by the neck, until dead…
Advertisements

bubble tea in the rooms of death

Conservatism surrounded me. A comfortable keeping to ourselves on the wings of transaction, give and take, society set up such that any otherwise lively action be tourniquet by predictable social etiquette, unnatural at best, dull and senseless concession to an all American model of commerce, profitable for sure and devoid of interest. I enjoyed my bubble tea in these rooms of death. Taking my sweet time, a sidestep from life. Only the tapioca between my teeth would burst with lifelike flavor amidst the somnolence. Then shot down the esophagus to the only exit from the constriction of our numbered days. God bless America.

love in a strange place

someone stole the names and left only faces. I was frightened. the place and other places were too much alike. you might not get anywhere, here. I touched my stone and stole a breath. the place smelled of certain death. I looked around, despairing. then a door opened. you walked out. all the past month settled on your face. we made it. I can feel again.

Posted from WordPress for Android

a dark (xxxx) visual

She lay in a bath of her blood

in her black blood-soaked dresses

against the shiny white

porcelain walls of the tub

her slit wrists turned in on her thighs

on her tights

her eyes open wide

to the light and the air

telling of darkest

despair

Untitled

The design we had over land.
The way we forced our thoughts into the world. We were driven toward self-preservation as far back as collective thought could remember.

How very strange and unbecoming, then, when some of us took upon themselves the call for cellular death.

love. over time

love was first given. freely. generously. and all was well or so it seemed.

energies were drawn. attentions shifted. the harbor of love, drifted.

times changed. there was no right or wrong about it. just  differences. new alliances. fences.

the queen of hearts hid in the hand. her husband suicided. apertures closed. windows. chances.

marked was romance for death. love so tender it hurt. stay away. everything in spades.

and original god given skin tone shown, where the single diamond symbolic once shone.