Wednesday, March 20, 2024

Alt. 19

 A cheap motel room/a bottle of Popov vodka/shadows on tile walls/wild eyes.

Outside, 
the night
closes in
like wolves. 


Friday, March 1, 2024

American Sidewalks

 As wind
crashes
against my
flesh
and cold snow
falls on
my black jacket,
I dream 
of a face,
soft and pure,
in that
warm
Palm Harbor
sun. 

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Jupiter Beach Halo

Vodka breath
and
golden brown
tan;
she sleeps
naked 
under white
covers
as the sun
rises over
campus.
I stand up
and walk out
quietly;
her screen door
creaks
shut 
behind me.
I stumble home,
half awake,
half alive,
as the city
wakes up from
a taxi cab
Friday night.
A car passes
by
and I smile-
the shit eating
grin
of blessed 
youth. 

Friday, February 23, 2024

Long Neck

"Are you 
sure
he's gone?"
I ask.
"Yeah,
gone
for a week,"
she says.
She opens
a Budweiser bottle;
the cap
clinks onto
the cement porch.
She smiles
wide:
all
crazy eyes
and short, black
hair.
The moon
hangs over
a clear, blue
pool.
Her bare foot
dangles
near the edge
of the
water.
In the
morning light,
all of this
will be
washed away. 


Sunday, August 13, 2023

Aim

She's got a
fast Jeep:
down the highway,
outskirts of town;
down by
neon gas stations
and the
dirty beach.
We pass
homeless men
in wheelchairs
and the
liquor mart
jammed with
cars.
Outside,
night 
closes in
as waves
crash against
the sand.
I light my
cigarette
and
glance over
at her
face:
young,
bold,
sharp as
knives.
She keeps her
pale hands
tight 
against the
steering wheel.
There is
no other
way out. 



Friday, May 26, 2023

Stranded By Malls (Raised On Video Games)

A music video
flashes
on the T.V.
in her
dark apartment
as neighbors
pound on
walls.
I set
my arm
around her
shoulder
and pull her
close.
The phone rings;
we don't
pick up.
The music
blasts
on and
on.
I feel like
I could
sink into
this ratty old
couch
and stay there
forever.
Suddenly,
the police
knock on
the door.
Who has
time 
to answer
doors?
I take a deep
sip of
beer
and run my
palm
against her
untamed
blonde hair. 

Monday, May 1, 2023

Been Dirt

Sitting
on a porch,
quiet midnight
in Florida.
She pours 
vodka
into a glass
of Coke;
stars shimmer
like
lost diamonds
in the
midnight sky.
I hear
the sound of
her voice,
the sound of
her dreams.
I press
a plastic cup
to my lips
and take
a swig.
We have
nothing
and 
we want it all.
Her voice sings,
soft and
steady,
and on
and on.
I light
a cheap cigarette
and let
the night 
fall
all over me.