histories de culhe’s very skinny, talented, & exciting
next to him during the night I dream of you
we’re asleep in a motel in LA
the gardener drives a tractor through the room barely missing our bed
& you tell him I’m your wife
the next day he makes me breakfast, we listen to rock n roll & we talk
then he leaves
& I go to an opening
where a naked cartoon girl fingers her cute cartoon pussy from every wall
& I run into the frenzied 20something actress, who reads to me from her journal in the back room
the painter who stayed up with me all night, but he’s engaged to an Italian jet setter
the drunk Playboy editor & the aging coke fiend, who wears a pink dress
the horny designer I make out with in cabs from time to time
the rent boy who once gave me a ton of pills in the middle of a club
the Colombian drug dealer who says he writes for Abel Ferrara
& the chick who walked away from Pollock's car crash
she is now bent & wrinkled
in the cab home by myself I cry
& later still I dream about the boy from last week
the one with all the interesting sex toys
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1 comment:
Pure lonliness, surrounded by desperates amd failed attempts to become indiferent to solitude.
When you look, cracks become evident and impossible to ignore.
I love how you write, It is dearing and honest. Your texts are so real and unconfortable at the same time.
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