did a set.
did some coke.
was happy to be alone.
especially when Garfield arrived late.
with his Elizabeth.
they missed my stage time
and that is okay.
but they were tonguing
and not drinking.
all I wanted to do.
was talk to strangers and write.
not sit across from these wontons.
so when they went to the bathroom.
with my year-old ilk.
I dipped out.
fuck it, they could have it in white bag glory.
I needed more.
I needed the night.
and the only adventure or possibilities.
that wandering could bring.
I turned off my phone.
and haunted with the adrenalin.
sauntering from the show.
I rolled some dice.
with a group of gangsters.
Lost ten bones and took off.
With just a peace.
I ate a slice of pizza.
and threw it to the 3rd avenue sunflower gods.
I walked round and round.
each block a different scene.
doesn't matter where I was.
and still doesn't.
I was in it.
I turned left down a ledge alley.
and followed music to a door.
in front of which.
stood a huge woman witch with balled-up fists.
"Just you?" she said?
"Sure,'' I smiled.
And she opened the door.
into yet another glorious unknown world.
the lights were loud.
I saw satisfying faces.
but I wanted to leave immediately.
I danced with a girl.
who looked like a Rebecca.
I told her that in another life.
we would just be friends.
she stopped dancing.
I left and felt good and bad.
I walked through Prospect Park
now you know where I was.
where I am.
wondering about petrichor.
and regret.
which is real?
writing this poem.
and knowing this poem is long.
but this poem should be shared.
on social and sentimental.
I hate clubs.
My revelry was leaving.
sigh of relief.
I fell through the fields of this city.
but I like that I get caught looking.
at life like a fun zoo.