Alone with the Town

my last friend left to Reno

drove through wildfires with his girl

and I’m alone in town

once I told him to get out

now I’m the only one who still comes round.

nowhere to cruise

in this country night of blue

Wal-mart and traffic lights glow

warm bodies stay inside

and watch the television glow

eating jello

heating water for tea in their midnight micro-

waves, oh

hell, I’m alone

again

on tile cold.

maybe I’ll shoot the bull

with the absent-minded, directionless voices in my head,

or blow my nose,

get the smoke out of my soul.

or play reggae guitar to the light of the moon

on my bed for two

missing you…

Yearning for Big Sur and salt and even Venice Beach,

when I’m really nostalgic,

tacos and lime

even Hawaii

your tongue and lips and throat

pronouncing my name

kissing my breath

on city wind night morning light sky roof

desolation,

that we were,

shouts and ATMs and sleepless Christmas

you were drunk and passionate

I was jaded-

I remember too often,

since life is small here–

but grand and golden in my heart:

its warm nights and my father’s eyes and mother’s arms

hometown heart beating the drum of my soul tune

and I want to cut through every town

and walk on dirty cement

trip on cobblestone

sit on crumbling curb

I love to dig the city, her footprints

her red, yellow, green stars

gas station moons

and diner suns

empty cinemas 1 a.m. drinking coca cola icees

by the light of the marquee

and her violet hair

my velvet and moonshine friends,

all silent now,

in far-off places

leaving me, for a short time,

alone in Desert town,

washed-up

past high school days

lingering

in longing…