My Trust Breaks Down

I remember seeing you on the beach,
the two of you moved together,
your hair suspended by the Santa Ana’s
blowing the chills from shore.
Even though you still lived with me
he was driving my beaten Chrysler
as I passed you on the highway.
-No, that’s fine. He must like you more
than I do. After all, he’s taller-
That’s what you like.
I turned, let the boiling wind hit my eyes
and again the wind shifted away.
 

How I Became Christian (I changed the title)

From saying I was playing with some weed
to snorting cocaine off of a girl’s back
my mama said she’d be there in my need
but mama doesn’t know my mind is smacked.
My girl told me she’d wait for blood water,
she walked off when I didn’t curve her fire.
Her friends are looking for the liquid year,
my lethargy not sparked by my desire.
My life guzzled by empty that I fuel,
it leads to nothing, comes again to me.
I eat myself, vicious in blood and drool,
delicious, my soul a delicacy.
He tells me none is real, to simply trust
a life of earth where all goes back to dust.
 

Philly Cheese steak

You asked me if I would remember the time
we went blasting down the freeway at eighty
miles an hour with the heat and dry, my hair
erect, shocking your hand when you first
made contact, running spider fingers through
my electricity. Your frazzled expression running
violently on the wind that was so hot it hurt
but we didn’t have air conditioning
so we had to keep the windows down; caressing
the tension that kept our bodies apart until
it was too hot for anything but lemonade
so we went to the county fair built up on black
asphalt and concrete, air stirring like chili
at Rick’s except that the heat came from above
this time we decided to get a cheese steak
to go with our lemonade. We drank from one cup
and ate the same sandwich as we sat on
that wooden bench, having an American summer.