The streets to best be walking down
are elsewhere for some straight down
the Avenue.
______________I am your comb in your tinny
hairstyle. I sometimes wonder how we
go a day without picking up the phone
and then remember I don’t know
your number anymore.
You and your full face full of
Bloody Marys and me, me with my
furrowed brow
__________________and bags full of pills and lotion.
A skinny little male made more
skinny because he’s poor.
______________________________I’d pour
you a drink and we’d talk about Artaud
or somebody else, I’m tired of talking
about Artaud.
_________________So I’ll keep walking –
thinking how walking here is better
because I live here and how if I didn’t
live here I wouldn’t be walking
here, walking where it is that I am
walking which is home, here, home.
