She was a hideous
Animal
With a long snout
And sharp stained teeth
She crept quickly
In the darkness
Hissing at passerbys
Dragging her rat tail
Through filthy streets
She crossed right in front of me
Turned and hissed
I liked her
We had a lot in common

I am sitting on the bed
Alone
In San Pedro
In my small studio apartment
Reading Sherwood Anderson
Opening the third beer
I started thinking about the hell
The last year brought
The loneliness
Agony
Then I started to laugh
It was so god awful
I had to laugh
Yes, im still here
******* at a beer
Waiting for greater agonies
I looked over at the stack of books
That kept me alive this year
I thought
You idiot
This was one of the most
Important years of your life
I often daydream
Of being a 250 lb
World Champion Heavyweight
Boxer

It always made me feel
Sick
When a woman would say
"Ya know, I had the strangest dream last night..."
What made me feel sick was
Knowing that I'd have to ask
"Oh really? What about?"
Then listen to a story that meant
Nothing at the end
Pretend to seem interested
Then pretend that I was some kind of
Dream interpretor
While she frowned at my conclusion
I always hated that...
Unless of course she said
"I had the strangest dream about YOU last night."
That I liked
Anyways...
I had the strangest dream last night.
I was sitting in a dim cluttered home
With some middle aged woman
Of some strange faith
As strange as all the rest
She held a 3 foot cadaver of a man
Only he looked more like a doll
With ripped dead skin
And wide bright glassy eyes
She was sobbing and whispering
To the small dead man
Then she said to me
"It's a custom in our faith to hold our
Dead
And say goodbye to them face to face"
She handed me the dead body
And I thought
I'm not afraid of death.
But my skin crawled
******* hardened
Throat clenched
at the sight of it
I cradled the grotesque being
And said
"Well...I hope the afterlife treats you better than this one..."
I cried a little
I am not afraid of death.
I woke and thought about the dream
I didn't know what it meant
If anything at all
I laughed and said to myself
Your pretty ****** up man.

I was walking down Gaffey Street
2 am
Drunk with only
The moon
To watch over me
Up ahead I saw
This black guy
Leaning against a newspaper stand
He was drunk too
He was staring straight into my eyes
I thought about looking down
But that would be submission
I stared at him and put my chin out
Blew my chest up
He saw this
And stood up straight
Hocked a big loogie
I balled up my fist and
Stepped closer
Feeling more alive than ever
Thinking about death
How it wouldn't be so bad
When we finally got an
arms reach away from each other
We did the up and down look
I knew he could take me
I finally said "You alright man?"
He spit again
I walked past then turned around
Walked backwards
He was still staring
Nothing happened
I turned around and heard
"****** ******!"
I stopped
Then thought
That's not so bad
And kept walking
The hardest part of being a man
Is that we all have to be
******
tough guys

The scariest part of
This loneliness
Is how much
I don't seem
To mind it

I was thinking of a poem
About a girl I saw
With a starved face
Eyes bulging
Teeth protruding
A screaming skeleton of despair
I saw her and thought
I could love you...
But that was interrupted
By a poem about a new fondness
For sleeping pills
Numbness
I once tried to cry at night
But couldn't
And I felt like a real
******* for even trying...
I walked into the bathroom
And threw a few jabs
And right hooks
Into the mirror
I thought
I'm 5'7
145 lbs
Just like Barrera, Morales, Chavez
All the great Mexican fighters
I walked out and thought of quotes
By Fante, Sartre, something Hemingway said
I looked at all the people around me
And thought
They couldn't quote anybody
Jesus Christ!
What the hell do THEY think about?
It must be terrifying!
They don't read
They don't scream
They don't fight
They don't go on drinking binges
Where's the scars?
Where's the passion?
Where's the life?
But then I noticed
They were all smiling
Talking
Laughing
Walking
Together
I suddenly felt a massive
Heaviness
Upon me
I noticed it had been there
All along
Maybe
I've been doing it all wrong

I was thinking of old love
Dying love
Love-Hate
That space between the two
That seems to last the longest
In any relationship
That
Fighting for bed space
Saying all the wrong things
On purpose
Waking in disgust
Hating every word
Drunken night arguments
Being able to breathe
When she's away
Love
I would take that kind of love
Right now
Stopped at a crosswalk
On a cold November afternoon
It seemed like all the drivers
Had passengers
I looked over to my right
There was a white haired old guy
In ***** clothes
Eating a gas station hot dog
He reeked of mustard
He glared at me
I looked back at the traffic
And thought
Everybody's going nowhere
But nowhere is somewhere
I hope...