One Friday night, nothing to do. New melloys, that means new shoes. Stepped outside to experience the view. What I saw next had your dude straight stirrin’. I was vexed by the way the foot traffic took a deterrent. Still, I pursued – stubborn in my course. Of course, I saw no reason to abandon ship. I thought I could approach the situation. Give a nod, keep pacin’ like behemoths we facin’ surely had me prepared for Valkyrie chasin’ (or so I assumed). Never mind, back to the fact. The way the sun sat on a Nissan Altima, black. The wayfaring vagrant, the peril attached. The dead keep dancing with the dead. The strings get pulled. Peace, guillotine, head. I could go on – but for the wrong purposes, I fear. I’ll settle for a grudge and a beer. An insincere apology in tongues unclear but yet some missed the mark when they thought they heard them well enough. I said “I’ll hit ya later”, she said she wasn’t sure if she was feeling my nature. Looking back I think she did me a favor. Ain’t nothing like waking up to waking up. Still I kill my inhibitions. Neural net neutralized, plural intermissions. Oh, so now we’re on the couch?! Queens of the Stone Age record on repeat?! She was Delilah given permission to alter follicles – slippin’ out of her tank top, the goddess of all molecules. I allowed myself a moment intertwined with Divinity. One thing led to another; exited vicinity. Back to square one, not a cab in sight. Seemed best to foot it. On that night I understood it but still….déjà vu is a mother fucker. Looking back, I should’ve fucked her. Oh, God.

Round two. She hit my phone it was like “Good Golly” – either Molly or she’s sorry. Probably Molly, though. I’m ornery, too. Creature carrying out careful conversation, I hit the Black & Mild one last time. I imagine life with no breath – well, here we are! – alone on the steps! Ain’t got to wonder what’s next….that’s a nice dress…let’s get it off. She’s hoping her boyfriend won’t call. I’m hoping he does and hears it all then all my terrible poetry will finally be vindicated. Until then, it’s bottom’s up! Toasted glasses at a Red Wedding…shucks! An intermission at the strangest time. You may have made the painting but the god dang frame is mine. I know that we were in some crazy times so peace to you, lady. Too crazy fine.

[Man, I swear, it’s about damn time.
(I think it’s a full moon, bro)
Man, I swear, it’s been too long.]