drowning in caffeine in the city of the shadow of death
deckard kinder
laughing and drugging and drinking in the dead of winter
I could sleep forever and not miss a thing [except you]
fortunes made and lost by no one we ever cared to know
exquisite agony plays our attending like robert young
all the experience in the world trustworthy and talented
nothing left to our imaginations [at least not for long]
dragging old lovers out of the closet for target practice
dragging them back in all bloody and gruesome and done
even o n the good days when nothing ballets our nerves
and the jones relents for the odd clear eyed moment
this holds true:
hunger makes roaches of us all and
only the strong cave in like regulars at some chic cabaret
never copping to the man never copping never
turning the fix on the tricks
how sweet it is and was and will be
even on the bad days when our nerves shriek for sleep
but the coma plays its little godot on us
evading invasion in chic circles of collapsing histories
amidst whispers
crimes and misdemeanors
hysterical hypothesis follows hysterical hypocrisy
even at the moment of birth or death or first orgasm
somebody grabs the brass ring
or pays the consequences
forgotten in the rush to just get away
I cannot play this game much longer sweet thing
now and then I need to breathe
suck in cool dry air
and exhale hot moist gasps
now and then
I need
to look at
you and let go of everything else
