Monday, June 4, 2012

human suffering 25.8


25.8
You are a complete slave to the drug. You have the power to change history, to change people, falling under the spell of macro-economics. It was so musical and dirty how the bruise appeared on your thigh. You call me ill-mannered in your childish way. I can see the resentment in your eyes when I am on top of you. You could fly away from this if you only wanted. Why you stay is a complete mystery. When I watch you dance, I remember where it is that I came from. There are so many things that I have lost and so many things I have forgotten. Remember all the things we threw out the window of that old Ford custom 500? We were trying to make our own place in the world. We didn’t know about fate and the different start times for the race. I kept running with my stigmata like it was some prized trophy that can get me through the door of some exclusive nightclub. Do you want to hear me testify about how I was so fucking lost? We drove that old piece of crap until it wouldn’t run no more. Remember when Leo raced around the neighborhood shouting, “You mother fuckers!” It was all funny until he drove into some old lady’s porch. We would listen to the Tennessee waltz and look at your naked pictures that I took with a Polaroid camera. We gave nickels to the Mormons when they asked us if we knew Jesus. You told them that he worked in a bodega on the street corner. You would hold my hand like I was your broken down papa as we walked the streets singing Johnny Cash songs and puff the magic dragon. You always knew more of the verses than I did. I think some of them you made up just to impress me. All you had to do to impress me was smile.

No comments:

Post a Comment