The Weather Station

my friend Puppy Jones
called me today from a prison
buried deep in the south
and simply asked
what the weather was like
where I am standing.

well, I said,
my mouth tasted like a vagina
when I woke up today.
I went to a matinee motion picture film
and smoked weed with senior citizens.
we all got kicked out by teenagers.

then, I said,
I made molotov cocktails
with some pacifists.
Burn crayons with some Indian artists.
Drank whiskey with some veterans
of Iraq and Afghanistan.

Later, I said,
broke into my old apartment,
ate a slice of pizza with The Wire.
Drank a bottle of Gruner
with some ducks and lizards,
both southern runaways,
like her.

It started to rain.
and, at the end of the day,
I kissed a girl with a tongue ring,
because I had never kissed a girl
with a tongue ring before.
it was okay, I guess.