the bukowski channel, "the never show"

so my teeth hurt. that never happened before. i never drank so much that my teeth hurt afterward from the slowly diminishing presence of alcohol in my system.

but i was on my fourth or fifth big gulp sized cup of whiskey. and the doorbell rang. it never did that. i answered the door in my robe, mostly because I assumed it was a drunk friend looking for a place to sleep it off. the young lady didn't seem impressed by my 29 year old physique, in all its shaky splendor. i never would have guessed at the beauty before me. she was a little shorter than i'm used to, i could rest my considerable chin on her head without hunching over. but the smile was aces, and at 3:38 am it was a welcome home party for a criminal on the lam.

she told me all about how she loved my poetry, and wished that she would meet a guy who would make her feel like she feels when she read my stuff. it was pretty typical. I could read the disappointment on her face when I opened the door. all they want is roses and red wine, unless the guy paying the tab is short, hairy, fat, and ugly. then they want all sorts of other things, that the good looking guy will pay for.

but the words were so important. she can imagine fire, but only the written word burns.

she actually said that to me. in hindsight, it's a good thing I was so drunk, because otherwise I would have thrown a brick through her windshield and pissed on her buckle-topped shoes. my tolerance and horniness increase in direct proportion with my blood alcohol content.

but I never went in for that crap before and so I wished her away, instead of wisking her away. and my behavior fulfilled my wish like the prophecy of a 12th century seer. another shot and maybe I would have tolerated her behavior. another century and maybe she would have tolerated mine.

she also never laid me, not that that's important. 

my band can beat up your band (*except danzig, rollins, & naughty by nature)

we're the dream team screaming 
from the screen on your TV
living all you're loving
while you're laying around

we're the dreams that you had
last time you did acid
we're the rumor that is circulating
all around town

we're your name in lights
at the foot of a mountain
we're the mean old man
at the end of your block

we shape all we see
through the lens of a camera
finding focus faster
than the eye of a hawk

sign of the times, we're the hollywood sign

we're the music you hear
when there's nothing but silence
we're inside every love letter
sent in the world

we're the voices in your head
when you're looking for guidance
we're the future generation
all your boys and girls

we're a sign of the times, the hollywood sign

we're the last breath you take
right before the first kiss
we're the best decorations
ever hung on a wall

we're the devil on your shoulder
and the angel too
we're here for your souls
and we're saving them all

sign of the times, we're the hollywood sign 

speaking of unenviable positions...

she sends smiles in clusters of forgery
nurtured in the criminal light of promise
across miracle miles laid out to torture me
yet traveled gladly on the wings of a child's wish

through moments of furious fright, improbable hope
leaves slain the isolation of the east
sliding tumblers, locked only to cope
opened to grant passage from the beast

without a true experience held in reference
illusions won't reveal their fade or sway
and since grasses always greener feel our preference
i'm destined to believe for one more day

from forged smiles sharp as any knife
that death is not the only escape from life 

to marrow

bone struck bone
like matches lit
inside sandpaper smiles
ripened flames, bursting
bearing the fruits
that feed our misery

the click click click
of the bones
less coherent with each step
unsure of their skin
woozy off the leash of tendons
and ligaments

a stiff wind kills our
halloween dream
we quitely pile ourselves, our bones
on a blanket of snow
it's so easy to fall in winter

the beginning of the end

the second time we met
drenched in an uncaring sky
moments of magic without illusion
hidden between the details of our mission
we are spies from different countries
searching for the same secrets
we share our devices, pool our information
work together without subterfuge

at a darkened corner booth, in a very
public place, we share our last bit of time
it seems too dangerous anymore
we think they're onto us
it's time to split up
to make our ways separately
but I know if they get me
my last breath will hold your name

Party long over. Met everyone. Natasha's roommates Jen and Trina and both very cool. There were half a million people here for the party last night, which I actually did my best to try and sleep through. It was an incredible party with an incredible mess left behind to prove it. I lent a helping hand, trying to earn my keep. We ate a bit, worked on the house, showered, then headed to the downtown area. Natasha and I. Alone at last. She is amazing. All that I could have hoped for and more. There is something about her that glows for everyone that sees her. I told her while walking tonight that I feel at home when I'm around her. Part of how amazing she is is how at ease I can be around her. And she is a truly beautiful girl. I don't know what else to say, my love was right on with this woman. "I crossed two bridges, and wept by one." Tonight we saw a play, actually seemed more like a performance piece to me. It was called Crave, and contained a whole lot of different perspectives on how and why we feel certain emotions. And how we react to the people we feel for. Some interesting thoughts, but I wasn't completely blown away. I loved sitting next to Natasha at a nearby pub listening to her talk about her life. Good thing I'm leaving in a few days, because I'm smitten.