Tuesday, November 14, 2006

for a boy i used / to know

a junkies palette of primary colours
reflects / green red orange / off the wet pave ment /

it's 3 am in the morn ing
& we are doing / the east side shuffle

the east side / getting high / getting
down / getting home scuffle

& that boy / with his tattoo skin /
cover ed in / ink / coat ed in / pain

keeps pace be side me /
a skate board under his arm

he looks at me /
& rain drips from his eye brows

his worn converse runners / slop a long
as we / trace the bus route / back to

the cock roach hotel / also known as
13th street / the place where i live

november rain soaks us
my hair stuck wet / to my face / &

my jeans are heavy / plaster ed to my legs /
& my hands are red / & my hands are cold

34 city blocks / fuck /
i wish i had a car /

& that boy
he smiles @ me /

& tips his face to the sky / his veins
are full / of sugar water & poison

& / i want to get him home to 13th street
to where i live / so i can taste his hands /

so i can press up a gainst /
his shiver ing body

rain falls / in never end ing streaks /
white lines spill thru the haze of coastal fog /

block after block / of orange
street light & white rain & we / keep walk ing

there is no end ing / only the middle of
the end / there is no / love / just attraction

we have / cigarettes & speed /
it's a mutual under stand ing /

there is no moral crisis / there is /
only me & the boy walk ing home /

in the rain



keros said...

You changed this a bit since I last read it, I noticed a couple more slashes here and there. Hah!

Okay for real now. You changed "In the rain" to be by itself. I like it better like this, much more powerful. Love the style and originality Jenn.

666poetry-finchnot said...

thank you diego

i'm all ways pleased to hear from
you / you stroke my ego / lol

the truth is / / if you didn't comment
i prolly would get any comments

i'm never sure about my work
if it's just my own illusion
that makes me think the work has
any redeem ing quality

this is an old poem i found when
i cleaned out my office a last week

funny where things hide . . .


H. W. Alexy said...

We're always our own harshest critics. I am a fan of your style and writing.

This has a west coast feel to it. I might drop the last line, as it leaves the reader hanging on the word 'home' and what it means to them, the writer and the skater boy.


666poetry-finchnot said...

thank you helm
it is definite lee
a west coast poem

i appreciate your comments

maybe that last line is really
the title / /

my usual thing is to take
the last line i write
& use it as the title

this was called cigarettes & speed
i think i sent it out for publication but it got reject ed

one has to wonder if the original
title had any thing to do with it

i changed it up a bit /

& tried to do a play on words
with the word "used" in title

that wasn't a line in the poem btw

i think / i should be pull ing out
old work / & may be try some
edit ing / some times i actually
enjoy the process / it's also nice
to get some positive feed back / so thank you again