we’d spend hours lookin’ at old photographs…colored pictures of when we were in love…vacations to Canada…New York…shots of Paris in an album marked, Memories…

always started with a bottle of red…poured till the last drop was gone…we’d just pull the cork outta’ another one an’ continue-on…lookin’ at shots in high school annuals…hair parted down the middle…freckles…tough guy poses an’ pretty girl smiles…

spent our time in the past…her with a family on a farm pickin’ corn during harvest time…football games for the boy who’d go-on to sell insurance…me…talkin’ ’bout a life with a wife an’ a loneliness that was always there…

wine would turn to whiskey…more talk of times in the past…never wanting to face the present…a future…took comfort in misery…multiple affairs…lies upon lies…always havin’ to cover tracks…fresh foot-prints of lover’s paths ’round midnight…

an’ we’d talk till we passed-out…music blarin’…windows opened out into suburbia with blue street-lights givin’ off a haunting hue… the fan blowin’ pictures of old times…portraits flappin’ in the wind…

we’d spend hours lookin’ at old photographs…colored pictures of when we were in love…vacations to Canada…New York…shots of Paris in an album marked, Memories…

people eating alone…drinking alone…thinking alone…no-one looks at the other…they eat grilled cheese sandwiches…salads…a constant eye on a cellphone…a computer screen…fingers pointed…pushing a screen…a new age has dawned…

other than bad 80’s music playing…there is no noise…just quiet…no-one talking…people penalized for conversing…sharing ideas…pleasantries…as if the human voice has been silenced…

maybe it has been…

used to drink and make love everynight…it’d start when we got home from work…open a bottle of whatever sounded good…a Cabernet…Merlot…some times we just headed for the hard stuff…vodka on rocks or straight-up whiskey…we didn’t care…it always took us to the same place…

we’d talk ’bout loves from the past…your exes…my exes…wives…husbands…lovers from a long time ago…people that’d broken our hearts…just talk…talk till the late shows came-on…we’d turn the volume down and colors would fly through the front living-room as we held each other…kissed one another…the bottle was always near-by…

then we’d go back to talkin’…drinkin’ an’ talkin’ in the dark…no-longer a blueish hue…no more sound…just our voices an’ some laughter…you’d start to tickelin’ me..tried to break away…always got me…layin’ on my side all curled-up just both of us laughin’ till we started kissin’ again…we always wound-up kissin’ again…

used to drink an’ make love everynight…i’d think ’bout you all day long at the factory…passin’ along products on an assembly-line while you were away at some store sellin’ paints and brushes…got real jealous when you’d come home talkin’ ’bout how some painter was hittin’ on ya’ in aisle 13…askin’ ya’ if you had a boyfriend…were ya’ single…

made me angry…all that talk ’bout other men…i think ya’ knew that…but ya’ kept talkin’…an’ puttin’ your mouth on mine in a soul kiss that would last till the next drink was poured…always wondered if that’s what happened with your husbands…your lovers…if ya’ set out to make them jealous too…

an’ i was no better i guess…tellin’ stories ’bout times in Canada with the wives…New York stories of how we’d stroll through Central Park…don’t know why i did it…maybe i was tryin’ to top ya’…get back at ya’ for makin’ me mad with envy…i wanted to be that painter in aisle 13…

we just drank an’ made love everynight till we was both done with each other…two lonely people tryin’ to escape the blues with kisses and wine…kisses and wine…

never did it taste so good…

don’t know if there was ever a time…when things were right…’spose I always cared…to some degree…’bout people…what they thought of me and if I was well-liked you could say…guess it was a concern of mine…

go-on…

wanted to be liked…who doesn’t really…a matter of importance…perhaps…in school wanting to be liked…not getting that…silly really…after-all it’s only school…not the real world and how things operate now is it…

you tell me…

kids running ’round in cliques…little groups of friends already formed…and from what…like-minded…same socio-economic-political landscape…I think not…kids don’t think that way now do they…

how do they think then…

they’re looking for deformities now aren’t they…looking for what’s wrong with you…how you don’t quite fit-in…any little weakness on your part to expose…

such-as…

well I don’t know really…a pimply face…bad teeth…usually the physical I ‘spose…pretty-one’s go to the front of the line…they get what they want ’cause of luck…sheer luck of not being born in a bad position…

like…

maybe not coming from the right family…perhaps money is an issue…they got their’s…and here you wait in the mix with the other blokes wanting a piece…just a bit…but is that opportunity there really…really…

you tell me…

no…it is not…they will not let you in their little group ’cause you are different from them…poor with a face like a pizza-pie…maybe a stutter…or your thoughts on things are different…god forbid if one would have an original thought…

so you wanted acceptance…

I still do…yes…I get it…

get what…

tis the real world…that real world does begin in school…

perhaps…

perhaps nothing…you spend this whole miserable life trying to be accepted…

if you choose that route…

what other route is there…you have to become one of them…a lemming…walk the straight and narrow…do as they say…and the one’s that get to be in charge were established long ago on some playground playing tag..smear the queer…you know the routine…some kind of demeaning process they put you through…

I see…

the line is pretty thick mate…and the minute you cross it there is a warning…sirens go-off…telling you to get back where you came from…

but what about diversity being celebrated…

that’s a fucking joke…there’s no diversity in diversity…my good man…the poor will always be among us…and they intend to keep it that way…sure…a couple of strayers might squeak through the muck and the mire…but don’t count on it…don’t you count on it…

and this is the heart of it…

I ‘spose so…

the heart of your anger…

I didn’t make the rules…no-one asked me…my opinion was not sought…

everyone is entitled to an opinion…

really mate…

yes…

what world do you live-in…

an’ you’re always worried ’bout money…makin’ a dollar stretch a few days…few hours…never ‘nough…never ‘nough…

stayin’ up till midnight to see that check drop-into your account…lookin’ at the cellphone every minute…a little gift that gets us through…whole thing gone…spent-on diners an’ bars up an’ down the streets through town…actin’ like a big shot…give a guy a buck or two if he asked you for it…they always ask you for it…

can’t save a dime…take these odd jobs throughout the month…money under the table for mowin’ yards…or…cleanin’ up sidewalks…get that money an’ it’s gone for you know it as well…six-packs of Old Style…cheap whiskey…cigarettes….

an’ we get kicked outta sleepin’ rooms all over the place…movin’ from one town to the other…never havin’ ‘nough to cover rent…a little here an’ a little there to landlords who’d give us some time to come up with it…we never come up with it…

daddy told me not to hook-up with you…told me you couldn’t pull your weight…best thing you ever did was get on the SSI…least then there was $735 a month we could count on…otherwise we’d be right back in the streets…back in the shelters sleepin’ in bedbug beds an’ blankets that never reached your toes…

they should’ve never took the kids away…shouldn’t have done that…I think Anthony and Darlene would’ve given you a purpose in life…some kind of initiative…hell…what do I know…jumpin’ from foster home to foster home…keepin’ ’em away from us…that’s for damn sure…

just gets so lonely out here in this town…so lonely when you’re broke…

the first has come an’ gone…come an’ gone…oh well…

hey…wake-up sleepyhead…

train kept wailin’ as Mickey and i walked through town… early morn…few cars would pass-by…a semi or two…mostly nothin’…just nothin’…

what time is it…,the old biker asked…

twenty after two…

August, 1st…

yep…August, 1st…

my anniversary…

oh yeah…

yep…twenty-five years without a drink…,he said…,haven’t touched one drop…,got the news that night ’round this time an’ I haven’t had a drink since…

miss it…

no…do not…

what happened…

he lit-up a Viceroy…last one in the pack…, was livin’ down in Florida at the time…Fort Lauderdale…used to put-up beer signs in windows…big an’ small neons in bars…liquor stores…Miller Lite…Coors…Bud…all kinds of signs in green an’ red…used to dream in green an’ red…

yeah…

got the call from Kokomo ’round five in the mornin’ that my baby had been in an accident…said she probably wasn’t gonna’ make it…

sorry…

her friend drivin’ home that night had had a few too many…an’ she wrapped that old Buick ’round a tree off a curve on a back road…said she was goin’ awfully fast…they was both gone on impact…brain dead on the spot…they announced her passed away later on that night…, Mickey took a deeper drag…,I tried to make it back…tried my damndest…callin’ friends for money to loan me for a ticket…gas…took me a few days to scrape it up…missed the funeral…

don’t know what to say…don’t know what to say…

there’s only two funeral homes in Kokomo…said they filled both of ’em for my baby…whole town showed-up, started showing pictures on his phone of a young girl with a pretty smile…,that’s her…she was somethin’ boy…tell you what…she was a chunk taken outta’ the old man’s ass…was just like me…just like me…bit of a hell raiser too…her mom was the quiet one…

missed the funeral huh…

yeah…they couldn’t wait any longer…had to get my courage up…get cash to get back up to Kokomo…brought flowers to her grave…haven’t had a drink since…

no…

nope…not a single drop…things happen for a reason…

these streets are tired…
girls pace from corner to corner…
boys in blue roll-by…
midnight strolls…

i watch from above…
kids on stolen bicycles…
chains on trees droop to cement ground…
mom’s worry…dad’s gone…

spray-painted gang signs…
crowns and numbers…
letters of warning…
stay away…stay away…

and dime bags are sold…
nickel bags bought…
the cost of business…
over 100 dead in a month…push baby push…

these streets are tired…
girls pace from corner to corner…
boys in blue roll-by…
midnight strolls…

no…i’m not in Vermont…yes…the colors are amazing…reds and golds…yes…but i’m not there…it is gorgeous…mountains…overnight…it is beautiful…i’m not there…no…not in Vermont…i’ve seen Lake Champlain…i know…yes…getting to be ’bout that time…yes…the waters are cold…yes…ice cold…yes it is amazing…everything is amazing…yes…i’m calling from New York…
no…not upstate…yes…New York is close to Vermont…it is beautiful…yes…what…no…no…i’m in the city…yes…New York City…it is big…uhuh…lots of people…yes…too many people…listen…just listen…no…i have not seen the Statue of Liberty…uhuh…no…i need you to listen to me…please listen…what…no…Bloomberg is no-longer mayor…yes…he was for a long time…i don’t know if he’d make a good president…just hear me…listen…no…no sir…the leaves have not changed yet…they are still green…yes…it is August…yes sir…yes…i am sure…i’m calling from Bellevue…yes…Bellevue…it’s in Manhattan…yes…New York…what…it’s a hospital…yes…no sir…look…please listen…just listen…dad…dad…well…sort-of…no pop…i have to go now…yes…i’ve been to Vermont…i know…the colors are beautiful…no dad…no…i’m on the 12th floor…the 12th floor…it is not a hotel sir…no…it is not…yes dad…Bellevue…yes…like on Barney Miller…the crazy house…yes…that’s the one…no dad…no…a while…i said a while…i have to go…people need to use this phone…no dad…no…i don’t need you to come get me…no i do not…please pop…please…goodbye dad…i said goodbye…mom’s dead dad…yes…i’m sorry…yes…i have to go now…i have to go…bye…bye-bye…..she passed-away last March…no i wasn’t there…i was not…i couldn’t afford a ticket…no dad…no…i’m sorry…yes dad…i have to go now…i don’t know when i’m getting out…no…i don’t know…i have to go now…i’m sorry ’bout mom…yes…O.K. …bye now…bye…

she kept callin’ him…askin’…,how’s it goin’…whatcha up to…where ya’ been…, always real nice…kept sayin things like…,can’t wait ta’ see ya’…it’s been too long…I’ll keep the light on…,he’d just growl as he hung-up…

she kept callin’ him…tellin’ him…,I got a date tonight…he’s not as good lookin’ as you…not as smart…not as sophisticated…, he’d get off the phone and lay in bed for days on-end thinking of nothing but the need to be alone…

she kept callin’ him…requesting his presence at her downtown loft…the swanky part of town…away from the poverty he lived-in…,come spend a couple of days with me honey…,she’d say…,you won’t be sorry…don’t ya’ want some homecookin’…don’t ya’ want your baby to take care of ya’…,he suffered in silence…

she kept callin’ him…bein’ sweet as honey…gettin’ to the point of it all…usin’ words like romance…love…forever…

he stopped answerin’ the phone…

all night-long she kept knocking on the door down the hall…drunken demands to open-up…,open this god-damned door you motherfucker…,she yelled throughout the night…,I want my shit back…come-on…open-up…,the bruised woman cried…

hey…, i said…,listen lady…no-one lives there anymore…he moved-out…

whatdya mean he moved out…

he got kicked out…him and the broad he was livin’ with…too many calls to the cops…too many fights…junkies comin’ an’ goin’ throughout the night…just got outta’ hand…

so you snitched…

didn’t have to…see that camera in the corner…, i pointed up at the ceiling…,it catches everything we do…you can’t make a move in this joint without bein’ watched…

well who called the cops…

the other brother who lives across from me…all he wanted was some sleep…i don’t blame him…

so you didn’t call no-one…

no…

the nigga’ ‘cross the hall did…

…sure…

when did he get kicked-out…

don’t know…it’s been vacant for about a week or two i guess…

well where did he go to…

lady…what do i look like…

he’s got my shit…

well somebody somewhere’s got everyody’s shit…i been missin’ my shit for years…have you seen my shit…’cause i can’t find it…

i ain’t seen your shit…

fine…now go home…get some sleep…

I sleep in my car bitch…

that’s as good a place as any…

say… you wanna blowjob for $20…

naw…i can’t sis…down on your luck huh…

you sure…I’m real good at it…

i’ll bet you’re a real pro…hold-on a second…,closed the door and got a $5 from my dresser…,here…take this…

I said $20…

i’m givin’ you a $5 for nothin’…no services rendered…now go get somethin’ to eat…

so he don’t live there no more..

vacant baby…the place is vacant…