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Sunday, October 26, 2003

Last Night

Hesitation. Nervous, Scolding, Judgmental hesitation. Two large jugs of alcohol still standing, standing still, waiting for me at the apartment. The spirits within colliding with the spirits without.

"I deserve this," rationalizing unhealthy behavior.

Chugalug.

"Hello, yes i'm very interested in what you have to say. Sorry, I have a bad case of homophobia. Won't you come sit with us? Hey at least I tried. Do I look cool smoking these cigarettes?

Tell me all about faraway lands while I pour te-queel-ya shots. Do you enjoy my hospitality?

Let us pray."

Chugalug.

"I'm not too good for cheap beer." Old Glory hangs faded on the balcony with a view and people-people. "I'm a people-person too." A thin blanket of wetness (blanket: watching mom watching it as she floats it down on your bed) lies over the black pavement below, reflecting fluorescent lines of red from above, from the bar next door, Legends. "So tell me stories about your faraway land," legends.

"Why hello there, sorry to interrupt" now casually make your way back inside with the people-people.

And the Mom:

An older woman uncomfortably coursing her hands over her booty. Ample bottom, round rotund dairy-air. "Close-fit me, hip-hug me" she says to her jeans.

Dear Slim Fashionable Modern Woman,

Your slight random knee-jerks and fickle hands and hair adjustment, all of this: of course you feel out of place now come to baby.

baby needs milk,
A Lug to Chug

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