June faded away like a lost forgotten lover.
For me, the days were longer.
Everywhere I look, there’s stillness and life.
The tense emptiness of being alone in these woods.
Silence once energizing, only broken by shouting.
The fetid air of failure
And the taste of rubber here and there unexpectedly.
The pain of temporary blindness smells like hot wood.
I saw screenprints by Andy Warhol in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
On a Wednesday afternoon, I wished you’d been there.
Not really though.
It was hot and the streets were busy with people
Hanging out or just walking
Like we’d fallen back in time.
A vision of the nineteen-sixties,
A pair of people in the same place because
We had the same shoes.
Where for to you be said the friend I don’t know anymore.
The plump ass of vindictive lust
Walks away with relief and frustration.
As satisfied as a starving child,
I was rich and the world was mine,
As tall as a house.
The real me unzipped my shell
And stepped out to fanfare.
Dude came to life and threw money around.
One day, next week next year
His life will start, the one he has been waiting for
As real life slips by.
The soft needle now
An impossible memory
In her dead fingers,
Just a glint.
We’ll spend more time together now you’re dead.
Fatum negavit nobis.
Locked doors patiently watching
Diesel engines cheering us on
Now I clammer and grasp
As that June slips away gone.
