watching movies when we’re lying
like two toothpicks in the shape of
a cross
my new miniature ledger it doesn’t feel
much different seeing those red splashes
across the screen which signify blood
in a funny way though
the guy I went out with once
on a lame date behind the counter
is still a dull echo in my ears
it’s the same sort of mess as everything
boring and not assertive in the least
last night I drank Pixie Piss at
Doctor Bombay’s after which I
saw a UFO and today I’m all
smoke and mirrors
how long can I go
without naming names
the concert under the stars
at the zoo amphitheatre
weather permitting
twisting the radiator knob
that does nothing
hitting the big money
around this time
and lunch with the true man
who just sold more business
this independence thing
I’m trying to get in touch with
having lost all the yellow butterflies
I’m in such a stupor
