A Dozen Bags of Frozen Blueberries at Midnight

+_+_+_
The show starts when again
Coconut milk in espresso and a cigarette,
thats the only show you’re gonna get.

Mixing up my taste.
Living life less than a rehearsal.
Living life like a wardrobe fitting.
An offer passed on.

Pay attention;
the white cream clouds bleach the brown grounds and
6 months ago you wrote something down
about a cool October morning on your brown couch.
Has anything changed

If you want to understand the Bible,
You have to understand the weather.
But there is none of that
in Los Angeles.

If I lived in the woods,
I wouldn’t need the Bible
to understand the weather.

If I didn’t live in Los Angeles,
I wouldn’t need to live in the woods so bad.

Here , everybody’s got another name,
I’ve got 8.
That way, when someone calls on me,
I don’t have to reciprocate.

I Will Tell My Sons;
You Cannot Expect A Pretty Girl
To Sit Around Being Beautiful
For Nobody.
(Your Mother
is a Miracle.)

After we killed each other at Trader Joes,
I returned to the scene of the crime,
to buy you a dozen bags of frozen blueberries
at midnight.

The 57-year-old Cashier Lady Asked Why.
“What is this like, when I withdraw 10K at the bank and you have tell the FBI?”
She laughed, but not much.

My gesture was a hazy one, to be sure.
Leaving blueberries on your porch
to melt, unfound.

An unfed apology
teasing April ants
behind plastic packaging
or was it March

I can’t seem to succeed at being a gentleman
More than 2 or 3 nights per week plus maybe a matinee,
“If you think I’m ornery now, you should have seen me then”
-something I am prone to say

The only time i pretend I’m not on stage
is when I am.

At the reading, I wonder
in whose voice I should speak my own words.
Speak them in the one
that knows they aren’t mine.
Says ...

I know you thought about offing yourself
after your big night
Not because we share the same sadness
though we might
but because we share the same marketing
instincts.

Mr. Zankou told me
to tell you
he is sorry about our fight
+_+_+