august came and went
leaving me
on the street
no more or less better or worse off
except that I was dying
I was killing myself
now and then sooner or later
the neon glowing about me like some halo
heroin eyes in dark corners
embroidering some personal sos
down on the way out
and clueless to boot
reflected in quiet whispers
kicked about like school girl prayers
but without the school girl hope
like something is better than nothing
or everything
or anything
dilettante in sheep's clothing
[school girls were never my type]
I'm wise to your game sweet sister
maybe I am your game
played with broken pieces
like monopoly without the chance cards
exquisite in my failure
careless in my success
unredeemable in my way
remarkable only in my time with you
time as well spent as it was hopeless
as hopeless as it was heavenly
I almost remember my street time
not that that's anything to be proud of
step one: make everyone think you're sharing
desiring more they will be your friends
even in hard times
step two: never share with anyone
protect what's yours
even in fat times
remember discreet confidences
and conspicuous fictions
they will serve you well if you use them well
everyone out here knows this
little sister except you
I won't cut you any slack
vulnerable as I am to you
I won't because you know I want to
no more no less for better for worse
gullible greedy guilty little girl
every move calculated six moves back
delivering the goods on time
grabbing yours in the exchange
even though you don't want it
or need it like your friends do
flaming junkies on a perpetual jones
silently circling each and every time
and for what?
nothing changes
I'm still dying on the street
tied to a resume of self abuse
you depend on like flesh and bone
for undecipherable reasons of your own
longing to be dropped like a bad habit
except that I get off on it all
step three: get what you can
however you can
anytime you can
no questions asked
do you read me baby?
buy your way in
like a con artist
or a whore
or a gambler
doing his thing
growing up on newsreels on documentaries
on endless nat fleischer cartoons
disaster absofuckinglutely assured
tender mercies horded
offered only as an aphrodisiac
leading to a casual escape
done like one of don juan's ladies
manipulated smoothly
exquisitely
turned out like a ten dollar whore
open for business twenty four seven
how do you rise above this
excruciating display unscathed?
like a god?
like a corpse?
none the worse for wear [that's for sure]
inspite of your injuries
giving so little getting so much
harboring more hard feelings than regrets
turning every wound into a weapon
in the beat of a heart
naive when the occasion arises
torn between were are and want to be
or seductive as a junkie's dream
to what end sweet lady?
heaven cannot help you here
even though you pray
for deliverance
irrelevant in the face of your history
regardless of all your apologies
eagerly given like backseat blow jobs
juicy mouthfuls
ultimately
swallowed
to a
bitter
end
forgotten
or
remembered
exactly
divinely
anxiously
without a hint of remorse
not that you would brag about it
to the troops on the corner
how do you live like this
every day
knowing what you know?
I am impressed
sometimes more than others
sweet sister
listen to me
obsessing about you
voraciously hunting the cure
even though I chose the disease
arguably impaired
totally out of control
seduced subjugated swindled to the skin
to the fucking marrow of my goddamn bones
and then some
kismet kissed off and kicked out
evacuated like some bombed out
mideast hellhole city
instincts on hold
do you read me?
[not that you'd admit it
if you did
gifted players never do
habits die hard after all
talent is as talent does sweetheart
nobody loses it
I never did
grudge bludgeoned
heartbroken
taken
muzzled muted and mutilated
articulated into invisibility
relegated to the morgue
extinguished like a black candle
or redeemed like a thief on the cross
for an eternity
for no good reason
except god's own grace
recycled on the wheel
in the face of my intentions
never delivered
granted just enough time
sensuous sadistic symbolic little sister]
purity never made the difference
obscurity never made the cut
security never made the grade
shame always closed the deal
everytime like blessed choreography
swinging my heart
swaying my soul
infecting my history
or my possibilities
not that I could ever tell the difference
regardless of your efforts to teach me
I never got off the street [did I?]
terminally fascinated with this sleazy little scene
utterly lost in the neon haze
and trapped by my own habits
like all your other junkies
swapping my body for a fix
selling my soul for one more numbing shot
heart stopping insensitivity teetering on the edge
in eager anticipation of nothing so intense
vacancy signs shut down [possibly forever]
erotic closure assured or at least attempted
rumors rumbling about like archaic trolleys
sympathy cards piling up battered garbage cans
to no noticeable effect
[oh please
do not get poetic on me now!]
inspite of your precautions
everybody knows how you turned me out
furtive though you might have been
opening me up like a a corpse on a morgue table
removing the good parts for later use
until there were no good parts left
nobody was fooled [except me]
incredible as that may seem
nobody cared [except you]
voiceless cravings satiated
in the heat of the moment
totally unaware
eventually pleased
devouring what little
was left of me
in seconds
the answer is in the question:
how do you live with yourself?
or do you not?
until you can tell me I am lost
twixt what I am and what I want to be
wrestling with some invisible self
august came and went
real hard
no margins given
I wallowed in the gutter
nothing to hold on to
growing old alone
