there are perfect days…


every part of the touch
was orgasm. fairly circuitous
route, butcha can’t question
results. my modest
expectations for the day
were blown right to hell;
i didn’t have to do a damn thing.

there’s my busted up phone.
it only gets about half the calls,
and some unknown percentage
of the texts; that’s why i
don”t get a better one.
my two favorite words,
“plausible deniability,”
are written in black permanent ink
on the back of case.

we made De Quincey proud,
giving over the space once reserved
for the Marquessa to some
fantastic combination of accelerants
& nervous system depressants
roiled in so many cigarette wrappers
we lost count. time passed,
magic potions got stronger,
n’ even if the damn phone rang,
i didn’t have to say a fuckin’ thing.

ain’t used to days like that;
there’s been so little perfection
of sensory induction that a few
scrapes, bruises, & headaches
are just tossed off wages of sin;
if you believe in that sort of thing.
i don’t.

coming around a later part of the day,
sun back up guarding windows
from darkness. few hours past
the overage of an evenings play
forgotten by miscreant actors
lost to sophistry. such fierce debate
hashed out on familiar terms.
arnold palmer in a glass.
that kind of thing.

now with brushed teeth, n’
a mostly shaved jaw under
easy black n’ red eyes,
gotta figure out how to
get goin’ again.
asked and answered,
as always.

dedicated to Razor Bob & the Bucket n’ Straw Brigade. May you all live to fight over and over again.

2 Responses to “there are perfect days…”

  1. doubtfulpoet Says:

    Not sure if this is really sad or really hopeful. I get hopeful? Or just accepting of the days that are thrown at you.

    Good job 🙂

  2. One of the best days so far in this life. Good to hear from you again, been liking what you’ve been writing. Time is short lately (which seems odd, because it’s the same amount of time as ever, I’m just not that conscious of it. You gotta do something, and this is something. Stay plucky, it can’t hurt.

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