If parallel
universes exist
An
alternate version of myself
Is a deplorable
skid-mark drug addict
I can
imagine a turn, a choice
Consummated,
evoked and detoured
Veins
riddled like tire treads
Crimpled
like torn scabs on interstate roadways
The
drinking, the anesthetization of a consciousness
Breathing
through scripted notebooks flowing through an alternate outlet
For
release to find common bond in the silence
The
smoking, the miracle haze of rail billowing
Through
European territories babbling in languages
I would
never take the time to become fluent
The
injections, the missiles going off like Gaza
At war
with my homeland wanting back what was mine by birth
Yet
sabotaged based on the nature of rooted decision trees
The
driving, the times behind a steering wheel
Staring
aimless at a set of brake lights and a lighter on the passenger seat
The bags
in the glove compartment, the glances at the rearview mirror
The
insomnia, the weight of head to pillow collisions
Crumbling
these papers fed into my notebooks like must get it out ejections of poetry
Incinerated
into gathering shoes to light up on a porch and stare at passing cars
The bar
stools, the orders the familiarity and sinister friendships
Of mutual
decay shaken hands and amenable recognition of a common decadence
The juke
box lies replaying in stereo flirting with parallel damned beauties
The
escape, the silence follows out to get the supplies
The
adventures with deal-makers experimenting with potency to evaluate the
sincerity
Of perverted
American criminals; pointing pistols at each other beneath our pockets
The loneliness,
the match or the pen burning the same
Bizarre strength
and fragility wrapped up like lovers molesting each other
Because
we know nothing else
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