In someone's story
We were the three A.M. crowd
With a sense of adventure
All the exciting details
Escaping
With the blood rushing to my head
There were moments
True elation
A real comradery
Shoe strings tied together
Piled high
Now pile driver
I ate my weight
And drank my frankness
Into the ground
To pound the pavement
A disaster that can never be
So we are moderates
But there are moments
A feeling of completion
A friendship never stewarded
Correctly
But anticipated
Filled out
Like a chubby teen
And so we discussed politics
Earlier
There was discussion
On a separate planet
About coffee table books
Testicles on a fence
A girl named Pain
And a cop called Chief
All very exciting
If you like stories
With no ending
The details
Long gone
But run together
Like a word
Or a sentence
Making the semblance
Of order
Out of chaos
Which is what we did
In the opposite order
Chaos out of
And we poured it over
Ourselves
Like salted milk
Later on
The events compiled
Others witnessed
A high intensity
Rough and tumble
Which is how she likes it
Always has
A beautiful symphony
Of clinking glasses
Squeaking leather
Rubber soles on marble
All along
The passers-by
Wondering
Who the fuck we thought we were
Sometimes we act like we know
But there is enough query
To always keep it
Interesting
A more riveting bunch
We've never met
And that can be said
For everyone
Ever born
With a silver shoe
Firmly planted
One foot on carpet
And the other
Somewhere unmentionable
And that's amazing
For people that say
Just about anything
--
4.3.08
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