blow me

Driving home from the bar,

I find my mind wandering.

I need to remember to write this down

when I get home.

I do have a tendency of getting

so easily distracted.

The fact that I drank some four dollar whiskey

and smoked a bunch of shitty weed

with Joy in the parking lot

outside of the show,

doesn’t help. 

I’ve taken this drive so many times that

I can allow myself to

get lost in thought

as the lights that guide my way,

dance along my dashboard

with a steady rhythm.

I think about being back up in the cottage

where I played with the drums

while you tickled the ivories.

I had fun at the show but I

did miss my dancing partner.

I love going to live shows in small towns.

First up was a surf rock band.

I did quite enjoy their melodious riffs.

Then Decrepit Youth played.

When I paid the heavy cover charge of fifteen dollars,

I made sure to tell the guy at the door

that they were the band I was here to see.

Joy’s boyfriend Ace plays in the band.

The singer kept dedicating the songs to the ghost of Danzig.

I giggled along in agreement.

Danzig is not the man he once was.

I was honestly impressed  by their set

despite the fact that the lead singer

was wearing a shirt that said,

“Keep Calm I Have Anxiety.”

I’m not one to follow the pack

when it comes to my clothing decisions either.

So who am I to judge?

I’m wearing my camo jacket with the back patch

that I hand painted

the words of Bukowski onto.

It reads:

“I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.”

I’m saddened to know that I will never get the chance

to sit down and have a conversation with that man.

Therefor I honor him the only way I know how, in spirit

..and whiskey.

People can’t seem to understand me

and that’s okay

because I came for the music.

I never cared to be cool.

Caring about cool

is most uncool.

There’s a difference between

being cool and being well-read,

even though the two traits occasionally cross,

and when they do,

it’s magic.

From what I saw,

you possess both.

Don’t worry I’m not being reckless.

I made sure to choke down a Cliff bar at

the 7-Eleven a block away from the show.

I wouldn’t want to

compromise my innocence.

I also took it upon myself to purchase a snack for the road,

wasabi-ranch sweet pea snacks.

I’m washing them down with coconut water as I

drive down this too familiar road.

I must commend myself for

such strong convenience store purchases.

Especially as someone who has

self-admitted bodega fear.

No one will be able to smell whiskey on my breath now!

Good thing there’s nobody around that

I want to kiss tonight.

With this thought, my mind wanders again

…to you.

The Doritos you packed

in a brown bag for me along with

an Arizona green tea iced tea,

Twix (which I ate immediately upon discovery),

a bottle of water,

and a pack of gum.

You really did think of everything.

You left me outside as you ran into the CVS

next to the bus stop after you realized that

I might get hungry or thirsty

on my trip home.

You handed me the goods right before

I boarded the Peter Pan bus

back to the city.

I didn’t open it until after I boarded.

This all happened after proving to me

that paradise is

more than a place in my mind.

I remember looking down at my palm tree tattoo

and smiling to myself.

Knowing that I put it there

in order to remember to

bring paradise with me

everywhere I go.

Maybe I didn’t need it after all.

I park my car.

I’m home.

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