Ask iAN

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Walkin' with  two friends
behind two basketball brothers
when 5 banditos in front of them turned on their heels
and shot out 9
9mm  shots into us all
we all escaped
falling this way & that
and when the dust settled
some punk ran up
and said that the banditos
were probably firing
blanks
I stooped over
and scooped up  a shell casing
and said "Really?"
I still have it to this day.

Walked from Venice to Santa Monica
in high heeled New York Dolls Sneakers
and a black fake fur coat
and a Billy the Kid
black hat
got a job.

I was living two blocks west of all the drug deals
a few blocks from Dennis Hopper's Metal Home
I rented a room that smelled like birds of paradise
from an 80 year old Hindu and his mate, a born again
Christian drug addict

I traded Drugs for Candy
slept on a futon beneath a 1969 era 8 foot poster of Shiva
 and let a homeless woman sleep in my corner
like a curled up cat.

Everyone I loved was 2000 miles away
I had one false friend that dropped by once in a while to say

Hi.

So many miles
so many dead dogs
so many dead cats
so many moons ago

How many jobs
pouring Chinese Tea
pouring petrol into tanks
taking endless inventory
selling boots & books
digging graves
calling strangers
locating Adverts
parking cars for the elderly well to do...
selling coke
running errands
pouring coffee
bringing the beers
cleaning the plates
haunted by the bible
picking the clothes up off the dead floor
cutting meat
pouring the cement
cleaning out the debris
sorting the mail
inspecting fuel lids
selling compact disc
cleaning out tubs
mopping up the cum
and washing off bloody beds

The blur
of it All

The Mafia wife with the sugarplastic vagina
the  Anne Sexton dirty underwear girl that was half insane
repairing her dead Mother's chandelier
hairspray
pierced flesh
beaten down smiles
all along Hollywood Blvd.
Empty wheelchair tycoons of nothing
crap cars
and dead white light
Fathers
Mothers left in the midst
of the nothingness of it all...

a peacock feather here
a plastic flower there

as my arm brings my face a drink
on this cold worn out
white
Winter
somewhere
Morning...

Mourning.