Tuesday, February 27, 2018

And I don't give a fuck




Anatomies of sorrow.
Were there only ten reasons?
Otis Redding.
Sam Cooke.
Marvin Gaye.
Tom Waits.
Trying to find another...

Down to the Faust Tavern.
Maker's Mark on ice,
Shot of well tequila,
No salt,
No lime,
Hi Life back.
Sit at a table.

In April...
I don't know where the fuck
I will be in April.
So then I should just...
Whatever you want...
I can't think about anything
Beyond this weekend.
That's all good
I'm working to live my life
Two weeks at a time.
I'm done after I finish this Maker's.
I'm gonna have another shot.
See you back at the house.
See you.
You want anything?
No,
Just finish that fast.
You can go on...
So you're just gonna stay here
And drink?
I reckon.

There's the thunder
Of Death Metal.
Some leathered fuck
Behind me
With a nervous knee
Shaking the floor boards
Out of time.

You walking me back home?
I'm walking back.
Coming back to the bar?
I reckon not.
You reckon?
I reckon.

You know Oscar Wilde...
I can hear you sigh.
He said,
There are two tragedies in life:
Never getting
What you desire;
And the worse,
Getting
What you desire.
When you talk like that
It exhausts my brain.
I'm just trying to say
I love you.
Well it's tiring.
And I don't want to have
To try and figure out
Something like that now.

You know,
I see all these couples
In the grocery store
Walking around
And I think:
Jesus,
What chumps.
Why would you stay
With a woman man person
Like that?
And then you come along
Complaining about
The Bordeaux selection
At this yuppie fuckhole,
Or the price of havarti,
Asking why I picked up
The wrong green salsa
And I don't feel like a chump.
And that's when I know
I still love you.

Because I don't make you feel
Like a chump?

Because you do
And I don't
Give a fuck.