I’m often alone, choosy
Carefree, searching for
Impossible parking
Just to be seen
To get frisky, at
High altitude, with a
Goblet of red, we recount
Sordid episodes in pride
After an out-of-date
Side yard jaunt, we aimed
To drive, freebased and
Puckering on cue
In my storeroom with
Cubicle for milkman’s delivery
Or out on the concrete stoop with
Dysfunctional door
Where rude women
Loosened by inexperience
Walk by and gawk at you
The unlikely root of me
On set, cameras are rolling
Lines mostly memorized
Under duress and uphill
Leaking from the short term
By week’s end
But your words stuck
Regurgitated by rote
Accompanied by a sense-
We thunder and grunt at
Our most characteristic
I am learning the nature of time is
Not linear but cyclical
4 April 2009
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