Where It Goes
I moved into a spare room
in a lady’s house in El Segundo
She had one of those music zines
I don’t remember the name
and she had stacks of CDs
that people sent her,
fat manila envelopes
mostly unopened
heaped in a broom closet.
She had a cat named ‘Vodka’
which was malnourished
and incontinent
and when it pissed on the carpet
she’d lock it in the broom closet
for days on end.
I loved that cat
even though it pissed
all over the music
I and 100s of others
had sent there.
–
Heave To
(for Elliott Smith)
Rudder lashed to sail
he knew he’d sink
if it got too rough
my man
with the guitar
He was all clean by then
just Him, Himself, and He
the luffing sails
tied to his own mast
and the storm was his storm
and the thunder his thunder
but the lightning
still burned
and in the end
he tore
himself to shreds.
–
Check Out Time
Innocuous enough
pack of smokes
but he only smoked
when he drank, so
he got a bottle
And he only did heroin
when the bottle let him down
which it always did.
The best motels sounded like
funeral parlors
Shady Acres, Serenity Pines
the problem was
check out time,
passing out at 8am
and needing to vacate by 11
so he’d get the room
for two nights
or even 3
if things
were looking
real good.
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