TOTAL CHILD

the smell of mothers moisturizer,

when i kiss the soft, giving

part of her cheek. the ones i have

that give. on the fly away bus we pass

the galen center. i recall all the people

i knew there once. concrete slab, brutal

downtown, south el aye. take me home to

where your lips are. where the beat is, where

strong weed is. reading gonzo fiction; drinking down

pounds of dark roast. clock out from life, check in to the heart hotel —

note to self remember to make birthday invite!

the signs all over the east side read total child. I scribbled down something about taking care and sent them out.

note to self: plan birthday performance! make the film that night.

and for a while hold me, until you go again. before i do.

note to self: remember candles!