stubbed my toe on purpose

it's a tricky Thursday midnight, ya'll,
and after the storytelling gig,
which went okay, 
and the afterparty,
where I danced with a beautiful
but silent blonde,
I can't talk or type anymore.

I need a break
from a lot of things,
even after the booze
and the broken heart.

I say this to friends of clouds,
out loud so it seems real and important,
but it is neither real nor important,
just a poet talking to himself
on a borrowed motorbike
with no place to go. 

Maybe I will follow Chris
up the PCH and go back to Portland
and that beautiful crazy girl with dreadlocks,
or maybe I will keep going up
to Seattle and see what Nila from Cady Wire
is up to and see if she has room
in her life for a me like me. 

I wanted to go back to New York City
and win back the heart of hearts,
really take back the city,
do things differently,
but that seems fruitless now,
especially after last night.

I could just stay in LA
and land a dumb job and a dumb actress
just to make life easy and unsurprising.

Which choice will make me happy?
Which place will last forever?
Which one won't break my heart?

You'll never know unless you try.
I guess.