Lacy jingle
          dark bar
semi-shadow good time,
          but still vanilla deep down.
Poetry of coming rain
          serves up "wait in the heat" and Closed Captioned Texan Beauties
                                        No charge to walk down the street
                              and back for more dark cliched 
          loveliness under
"more sports on the way! Get yr shots NOW"

"See you in Hell,"
                              quote, the drunk bastard on my right. 
Yeah                    I'll be visiting your mental playground,
                    I used up all my toys,
                    Heaven's devoid of stores
                              and you don't bring anything with you
                    so
                              everyone's walkin' around 
naked.
          And me with my farmer's tan . . .

Mystical clothing,
poetic justice of the Gap,
                                        learn
to be a nudist.
Damn,
Everyone already knows each other through
                              spaghetti western
                    wide screen, college dorm room
                                                                      joy.
I owe it to my friends (the three I have in this town)
          to stay
here as long as possible
          just another patron
of the earth 
with cigarette 
          aftershock, Palaides rising, and a liposuction freak show in tight black dresses
marching to and fro
 

El Brutto, 
                    I am the ugly
                    in a neo-ugly town
drinkin' the wrong beer
(Dennis Hopper Pale Ale sucks ass)
at the right pub
                                         (Lovejoy's)
cute girls scampering about with cloned friends in quick tow
motif of the stylishly unstylish. Empty
                                                  to stoked
                              in
                    five minutes or less
a showdown of bastard souls,
                              huddled in a corner
                    to take over the world of favorite flavor entertainment, hence
Jesus!!
          Somewhere in here I stomped over midnight, so the whole thing counts
the whole thing
          of semi-drunk artistic crazy wild card of joy plot devices.
Okay, maybe a little more than semi-drunk
          but when you know three people in a town of a half million
and you mix drinking and writing
          tangents
                              can be deadly
where are my manors
fuck writing
          I'm gonna go shoot some pool and meet people.
 

August 7, noon

(SKIPPED DUE TO EXTRA KILLER HANGOVER)