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