conscripted…

future plans

Three hours without any slowing down at all.
That might be some kind of record.
Having nothing the compare
the experience to,
I’m at a fuckin’ loss as to whether it was
time well spent.

When I was done, it didn’t take long
to ease the evening in with something
slow; quite possibly something with
saxophones.
Tripping from the couch to the outside air
for cigarettes and temperature changes.
It’s gettin’ dark already; I’d swear the day
had barely begun.

For a second I was drowning but now I’m ok.
It’s gonna take all day to dry my hair,
and I think I forgot to take my earrings
and contacts out. All things being equal, I
should be able to see just fine.
What’s with the double vision? Even
the sun has given up on the day.

As luck would have it, there’s still a little money.
That means all kind of good things could
be headed my way. I saw a guy in a red
Cadillac convertible smiling at his much younger wife
(she had a great rack.) Now I
know how he felt. Difference is, it only took
me 70 bucks to get here. Smiling, I could hear
him mouth the words. Fuck you too.

The car keys will get me just far enough
to get just far enough. I got plans for the rest
of that money; put to the right uses
there’s no question of value. Another
night in the suburbs; if there’s any other
idea, I’m all ears.
——————————————
Inspired by an afternoon spent reviewing an album. Not allowed to say which band or which album, but if they are getting a review, I’m getting a damn poem out of the experience. Besides, they know who they are, and it’s about 50/50 they see it anyway. Go smoke a cigarette or something.

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