paxnor's Vampire Journal

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19:25 Aug 15 2009
Times Read: 609

i am leading

a quiet life

but not in mike’s place

this is no shangri-la

i am not sipping

the nectar

of any god

in a semi-transient

state

of sun-burned skin

and parched throat

a bartender-ess

cum mother poet

psychic mediator sister

psychologist

a true jill of all

trades for

minimum wage

plus tips

brings me a beer

and the pool balls

CRACK

together like

bones

so someone walks

in

too much light

squeezes through the

door suddenly

there is too much

smoke in my eyes

maybe i should

leave

go where

stop with all the

questions

3 o’clock

and all’s

drunk

that’s getting

drunk

somebody

i forgot

who

croons

from the jukebox

asking someone

if they’re lonely

tonight

the wooden walls

do not respond

and doesn’t

really

ask

anymore

five women

all wishing

dreaming

that one day

they’ll go

to somewhere

greater

and it almost doesn’t matter

where

they go

just to know

they

won’t

ever

come back

memories don’t always

help

have you ever patched

a hole

in a cement wall

with

papier mache

maybe

i’ll grow a

moustache

youcant

i forgot

biology

i didn’t

really

want one

anyway

i’ve been

thiking

about quitting

smoking

but then smoking

is a dirty habit

and

in all that dirt

i find

sanctuary

and

justification

i feel

they are

just feelings

getpastthem

my mother

told me about

the face

you show others

and

the face

you keep at home

in a jar

by the door

but

i’m not cathy rigby

or was it

kathy scott

all of these

i’m nots

i ask

what am i

occasionally

i wonder

in the morning

when i face

the sun and birds

and fish

i wonder

in the afternoon

when i hide from

the sun

too hot to do

anything

but sweat

and smoke

wondering

in the evening

staring straight into

it

as it goes

down

in a great, bitchfest

of flames and

sad love

sea

why

yes i see

spots

on my sunglasses

that’s what i

see

somewheredowntheway

amanfixessomething

bybangingonit

aboatgoesby

i notice

a bug

in my coffee

theboatgoesbackwards

thendrifts

i take off

my sunglasses

only to notice

i didn’t need

them

after all

i got a

tan

this summer

what else did

i get

amandrawsbackhisnet

itwasempty

i got

a sunrise

all tangerines and

grenadine

i got a headache

jumpstarted by

coffee

and

fueled by

fatigue

i got crazy

no

really crazy

and it wasn’t so bad

it was actually

kinda

relaxing

yes relaxing

like being in the

middle

of a strange place and

having the lights

go out

relaxing

like taking a

shower

in the middle

of the night

at home

alone

on the second floor

hearing noises

downstairs

relaxing

like sitting in

traffic

in the middle of the day

in a car

with

no air conditioning

and nothing to drink

surrounded by

sweating swamps

crying babies

and

bad

loud

county

music

relaxing

this summer

i begged for

change

in a corny

false

English accent

in the French quarter

just to get a

pizza

and slept in my

car

for two hot

nights

and broke bread

across the street

from a movie shoot

with a lesbian

a bald girl

a sleeping boy

and a singing fool

this summer

i was alone

but not

i showered in a

drop-in

and borrowed

eyeliner

from an anarchist on her way to

las Vegas

i sang violent femmes

songs

by the Mississippi

and drank malt liquor

while old men fished

for eels

t his summer i was a waitress

and

i never knew

i could be

so

very

nice

this summer

Ophelia

mycarsee

went on strike

three times

and

was vandalized by

treat Williams

but now

i can change

the oil

check the water

and

burn holes in

the seats with

my cigarettes

this mechanical summer

i’ve been

a thief

a liar

and yes

a magic bean buyer

but nothing grew

from my effort

this godless summer

i have considered

becoming

a nun

becoming

clean and pious

all my questions

answered

this confusing summer

and ye though

i have stumbled

through the valley of

good taste

i have remained

my mother’s wench

at heart

i read

my tea leaves

for mystic signs

you will meet

a tall dark

don’t cross the street

on the even days

in may

burma shave

and so

i keep

shaving

and shaving

and shaving

but the hair

on my legs

keeps

coming back

and i keep changing

and changing

and changing

but

the hair on that

shirt

keeps coming

back

and still i put it on every

morning

i woke up today

to find an

un-colored sky

not blue

not gray

but each

canceling and

controlling the other

i had

such

a dream last night

i forgot

where

i was

went driving

looked for a

sign

the grocery store

told me

and

i believed it