she calls it therapy

she says peering over the rim of the cheap made to look fancy delta business class wine glass why  ahmed  couldn't crack that fine piece against the seat and slash the throat of an unsuspecting airline professional i don't know she says peering over the rim of the glass the glycerin residue coating the sipping side in a tinted maroon arc spraying casting the dim yellowing overhead cabin lights like sunday morning sunshine slipping through the melting stained glass windows of some ancient baptist church on the outskirts of savannah jesus speaking gullah she says her hand delicately cupping the glass her tongue playfully touching the edge she says

why didn’t you flirt with me in the crown room

i say i smiled at you she says

i know

i say my eyes met yours she says

i know

i say i stared at your oh so long legs those legs that just seem to touch the sky i’m thinking i bet your pussy she’s heaven up in them denim clouds i say i watched you wiggle to the bar order a drink she says

i know

she says she’s tucked up into her seat turned toward me one of those gorgeous long limbs tucked up beneath a knee propping up a chin an elegant giraffe lounging in the high grass i wonder if she simply unfolds when she gets up her throat long and graceful i want to hold it in my hands choke her gently roughly as i force her to the floor leaving bootprints on the ceiling above she says yeah but i smiled at you too my eyes met yours too i gazed at you walking away from the bar with your with you’re her nose wrinkles up just a bit of a frown fades quickly away from the bar with your club soda and lime she says reaching out a slender hand touching the back of mine soft warm smooth she says pouting she says

why didn’t you come sit with me

i say i flirted with you later you know in the security line she says

i know

i say hey don’t you know i wanted to aid abet assist the distance between betwixt the sky those not made for calf roping green cowboy no cowgirl boots unseemly unfathomable had i my yardstick birch strong supple i’d whack my bare bottom for leaving it at home i’d whack your bare bottom in the stillness of my dark room a stillness broken only by the steady skin sapling skin sapling staccato maybe an occasional downbeat of the thirty eight or thirty one trolley wire zapping early morning moisture

it ain’t love but baby it’s admiration i’ll respect you in the morning if you last the night i say don’t you know don’t you remember i told you i said dem boots dem boots i do dig dem boots i say i wanted to touch them feel them soft supple on your feet she says metamorphosis cocoon to butterfly stretching her leg over across the arm rest i catch the tumbling empty baily’s glass a drop from the bottom settling on that bit of skin stretched from thumb to forefinger

a dart of the tongue spic and span

the green boot settles softly on my lap a gentle landing she says

you can touch them now

she sips the delta waitress she fills her glass again and again my blonde amazon from atlanta tells tales of titillating tests love and marriage and risk and bikini bootcamp in mexico and skirts too short in vegas she says

you should show up in mexico you should come to vegas i need a date for the latin grammies i smile i grin of course i’ll go but i know i can just feel sure she wants me know she wants me tonight but tomorrow she’ll seek safety suburban solace espadrilles and sun dresses that’s oh kay that’s all right

i just dig the moment

she sips the delta waitress she fills her glass again and again she says i have stories i say i love stories tell me a story tell me twelve stories sing me stories she leans forward oh sweet yogi to the thee i give thanks she says

do you want to make out

i smile i grin of course i do talk story first she pouts that teenage grown into woman kind of pout she smiles she grins she says

my very best friend married donny nine ago now they’re smack dab in the middle hell maybe toward the end of splitting up she’s in love with another donny ten years her younger donny the younger is a tennis pro she leans forward my blonde amazon from atlanta she leans forward lips breath close to my ear whispering she says

i am a great tennis player

do you wear those short white skirts

yes

do you have great legs sliding out from beneath those short while skirts can you crack a pecan with those thighs

yes

i didn’t flirt with you in the crown room because i saw i noticed you wore a ring you wear a ring she says wagging her finger at me she says

silly boy

i married james seventeen years ago eight years ago i lost the first damn ring i was acting out i got this one just a few weeks ago james was upset i felt kind of

free

tell me tales of acting out

she says oh doctor doctor that’s session number two n’est-ce pas

donny the soon to be ex of my very best friend ever he calls james he needs to talk he doesn’t understand love til death do us part haunts his lonely bed only tears and wet dreams revisited stain his sheets donny calls james works with donny yeah it’s awkward james he projects my blonde amazon from atlanta she has a

history

she says her voice a little louder exasperation maybe the wine maybe her head tilts a bit to the side do her ears cock she says

love it’s so fucked up do you believe in love

i do believe in love i believe in a love everlasting i am still in love with every woman i have ever loved sometimes i think that breaks my heart more than falling out of love ever could don’t you know

we walk off the plane she says hey i’ll drive you to your hotel it’s on the way do you want to make out in the airport she stands close to me while we wait for the train she stands close she breathes oh she breathes the red wine burns my neck chars the salt and pepper lips alcohol dry brush my ear

in her boots she is taller than me

we sit in the arrival lobby on a couch people all around she pulls out a deck of cards she snarks me plays dumb we play gin i used to think it my game i joke all cocky i say we’ll play for clothes right here in the airport she feigns shyness says well oh kay i deal she wins with less than half the deck drawn i’m still cocky we deal another i squeeze by with a lucky pull she then proceeds to win the next three hands the last one less than five turns i should be naked by the rules agreed upon she forgets the bet she says hey you got weed let’s go she forgets where she parked we get on the park and ride bus she can’t find her ticket the guy on the bus says he can’t take us without a ticket she empties her purse on the bus seat goes through the contents

mints tissues change keys receipts paper clips no ticket

no condoms

that i noticed

she finally finds the ticket hands it to the driver he says hey sugar this is a short term parking ticket for the lot right behind you she says a bit confused a light goes off eyes brighten nipples harden she says oh right yes short term parking forgot about that we get off the bus stumble through the parking lot looking for her car i light a bowl this might take a while we might be adventuring through the bowels of the parking structure for quite some time i can’t quit now though i’m committed some suicide mission that we all find ourselves on sometimes for me more often than not these days hell i guess that life is one long suicide mission some just manage to extend the mission longer than others we fine her car after she methodically walked the lanes clicking her remote the new millennia version of the long ranger whistling for silver

hi ho audi away

and we were up the highway a bat out of hell luckily past midnight the lanes are empty she has her choice she tries most of them just can’t decide they all look so good

i guide her to the downtown exit up and over international right down to spring there it is the westin peachtree phallic and tall and mirrored so no one can see in just like any good southerner we all suffer within we all secretly shell out for the sins of our fathers she zips into the drive she kisses me i kiss her it’s nice

she says next time we’ll just jump right in to session two she has her choice she tries most of them just can’t decide they all look so good

i gave her my card and all that

the silvery green shimmering shaking eucalyptus trees reaching way way up hundreds of feet up into the vast endless blue anteroom to the heavens of abraham jesus vishnu the leaves hanging spinning long sharp scythes flickering their steel edges bleeding jagged edges bleeding into the late california afternoon sky that just seems to vibrate that breathes alone and along with us all

are we not gods ourselves sitting atop our temple creating destroying smoking it up olympus breathing deep apollo sprinting across the void leaving a cool breezy chill in his wake engulfing all of us washing all of us

the brightness of the day it comes it goes my way

seven million hundred thousand folks sitting around eating chocolate buddha balls young hippie dude dancing through the masses i love him and his smooth olive innocence he has seven different flavors this year all floating in his pots of copper chocolate balls of  mysterious wonder he carries them around on a stick like they were hot pots outside the banana stalls in kuala lampoor i dig the coconut java bittersweet chocolate buddha balls i juggle them while walking the slack wire of the day i juggle them in my happy round buddha tummy i juggle them amongst between betwixt my many personalities some day one is gonna stick sticky sticky juju love balls seven million hundred thousand folks sitting around eating chocolate buddha balls me i’m hanging with this cute german girl i got a crush on this bavarian babe i got an infatuation that burns i got a love that just churns

i got a song tattooed around my throat

later in the day the sun it’s hitting its stride we’re driving on around straight up back down the hill we’re driving over the bridge spanning the bay over the river through the woods to grandma’s house what big eyes you have what gorgeous teeth you got better to eat you with sizzle and sear she’s driving my car she’s been up all night got her hands wet on the wheel those same hands that held my cock only hours before she’s got her hands on the wheel radar love gonna find me i’m just floating along in the seat without the steering wheel she says

taking my keys taking the keys to my heart my very soul

later in the day the sun it’s going down she says hey baby you just fly along on your magic carpet you just leave the driving to me i smile i grin i wink i say baby you can drive my car baby you can drive me to hell and back you can drive me to lapland you can drive me to eden you can drive me to oakland i don’t care just so long as you’re singing our song

later in the day the sun it sits on the horizon behind us she leans over her eyes on the road she’s a careful driver she leans over she whispers she says she asks a stern look across her blond brow she commands in a playful threatening sixties spy movie accent she says hey brother don’t you be so stoned you can’t fuck me nasty

later in the day the sun gone down i fuck her like a convict

just like she likes it she sizzles she sears she says yeah like that

seven million hundred thousand folks sitting around on the ground sitting on blankets tossed lazily about claiming territory sitting in those fancy camping chairs from are ee eye some feasting on elaborately planned picnics fancy new age spreads from whole foods with tuna tartar roasted artichoke pine nut spread chilled sparkling wine that tickles they’s little noses so they turn up telling the general public milling about shuffling their birkenstocks in the dust telling all who will listen realize that they are special that they have the luxury the leisure the foresight to prepare such indulgences most though most are working stiff collared to the desk hippie wannabes with a couple of crushed beer cans an empty bottle of wine stained soiled paper plates from the local vendors big ears of roasted corn burritos churros teriyaki chicken on skewers

the big guy he comes back with four india pale ales he says yeah i bought them from some hippie he hands one to the preacher’s kid offers me one i decline the big guy he’s from vicksburg the preacher’s kid he’s from the delta we’re all crackers each and every one of us we hang we share marijuana rolled in cigarettes we inhale smoke and dust three crackers from the southland we all escaped

the big guy he says one day i’m going back the preacher’s kid he says one day i’m going back

me hell i ain’t ever going back i ain’t those nigger hating faggot hating people hating cracker barrel rednecks sitting at the waffle house counter can kiss my lily white ass which i set on a towel with this girl she’s hot i dig her the music it plays in the background i don’t care my soul is crowd surfing there are so many young middle aged old ta ta’s just yearning to breathe yearning to be free

give me your tired your poor

i want to free them all i want to release the bonds that hold i want to kiss each and every one of them with the rough tenderness that they deserve yeah the music yeah there’s music the music it plays in the background it all sounds the same to me after a while it’s strictly bluegrass with a texas songwriter twist joe ely sings along with jimmie dale i barely notice when michele shocked comes on it all sounds the same to me

jorma bends and blends doc watson

we walk me and this girl this girl so hot her touch it burns sizzles sears she lets me put my arm around her she is my seeing eye we ascend into heaven sitteth at the right hand of god the father i think she’s afraid i might fall down it’s a valid fear there is nothing to fear but fear itself the ground it ain’t so far away

i’ve fallen before i fall every day i fall for her

i stumble she catches it’s just a pretense i just want to whisper dirty thoughts hell any thought that comes to mind i just want to lean over find her ear maybe nibble a bit on the lobe she has such lovely sweet ears of roasted yellow corn fresh from the fields of nebraska i could nibble on them all night long i got such a sweet tooth i just want to lean over find her ear whisper my every dirty thought i want to make her blush i want to make her squirm just a bit

we walk

through forty three thousand three hundred fifty eight people floating up the road toward us we’re walking up stream downhill going to find los lobos at some other stage where’s everyone going red and yellow black and white they are precious in my sight i love all the little hipster flower children in the world they float up and on by every now and then a gillian welch wannabe complete with boots skirt and vest some with that gillian welch flat chested school marm look some with button popping cleavage goddamn better bring out that bottle of olive oil we need to shine these puppies up gotta let ‘em breathe fifty eight fifty nine sixty forty three thousand three hundred sixty one people come floating up the road toward us

we just walk

she tops me from the bottom holding me up guiding me this way and that pointing out things that she just imagines i might like to see she’s complaining that there’s more cute women than cute men coming up the road she’s pretty goddamned picky i like her taste i’d fuck anything she points out

hell i remember not too long ago i remember some nights other nights from past lives a few johnathan livingston seagull lives ago a couple of donkey kong levels below i’ve been reminded i’d fuck anything my dog sniffed out

them nights they be behind me get thee behind me satan

might have had something to do with jose cuervo he be the devel he be one bad motherfucker he be he do be but them nights they be all behind me but oh baby the stories goddamn these stories they do they do

come on baby lie naked with me beneath a single flannel sheet let’s talk story come impress me with tales of debauchery come tell me of days that used to be come tell me of days that will be come tell me tales of the pink

we don’t find los lobos they be lost to us i think i hear them

we find our spot we find our sport love lust hell i don’t care it’s my party i’ll cry if i want to sitting on the grass this dude with a shopping cart he comes walking up he admires the spot of grass next to us he’s touched by the scarcity of warm bodies he plops himself down he starts to talk he’s michael dean from detroit michael dean michael dean he asks me he says popping the top of his thirty two ounce bud ice hey man want a beer me i’m good he says taking out an altoid can popping the lid to expose some of the nastiest grass clippings i’ve seen since junior high in south georgia when that cocksucker sold me oregano i smoked it anyway what the fuck did i know he the dude from safeway he says want to smoke a joint i say dude tell you what you keep your weed let’s just smoke a couple hits o’ this click click flick the bic michael dean he gets all lit up

michael dean he smells like he’s been lit up for years

michael dean from detroit he say goddamn that’s good michael dean from detroit he say i been out here for thirty five years this is my town this is my park this is my beach back during the eighties i spent years down on jones and turk spent ten years around jones and turk streets used to hang out at roll ‘em park know why we called it roll ‘em park them fools they’d walk out of glide memorial with their cash hand outs they’d walk over to the park we’d roll ‘em  he laughs he coughs as he laughs he slaps his knee he slaps his knee with a hand that only has four and a half fingers the index finger just a little shorter a knuckle shorter than the others it just ain’t there he slaps his knee he goes silent he stares out across the crowd he shakes his head he looks over he says the gaze glazed shaking his head he says

fucking eighties man they were strange

michael dean from detroit city he says goddamn this is good music i like rock and roll this ain’t rock and roll don’t you know but i like it what is this is this country he says pocketing my lighter he says ever been to galesville illinois i say no he says taking a long drag on my very fine mary jane he says you even know where galesville illinois is do you even know

i say no

he says whaddya mean you don’t know where galesville illinois is you must be some sort of geographical idiot i say michael dean michael dean from detroit city i don’t know nothing about galesville illinois he says yeah yeah yeah it’s a sad day i thought you were oh kay you’re just a geographical idiot he shakes his head he says dude he says

the eighties man they were strange

another spot in the crowd calls out we get up we leave michael dean from detroit sitting in his spot this girl this hot chick that holds my hand this lovely sugar who kisses my cheek she walks with me she sees him later in the day before the evening she sees him later in the day she sees michael dean talking to this other couple child in stroller post-hippie over-forty new age corporate couple in a last ditch effort to populate the earth to pass on progeny to leave behind their seed their legacy he’s going to be over fifty chasing the little yard monkey down the street as he learns to ride the bicycle she is barely able to stand she’s exhausted the child sucks her energy her lifeforce she don’t sleep at night love it robs us of sleep love it steals that peace of mind love is never having to say you’re sorry love is a many splendored thing love is a dog from hell michael dean from detroit he hasn’t had requited love in thirty five years michael dean from detroit city he’s not really talking to them he’s not really having what might be seen what might be described as a conversation he’s sort of talking at them he says

don’t you know who i am

me i smile i say hey that’s michael dean from detroit he’s one smelly motherfucker

we all know who you are my man we all wonder who we are

earl scruggs he’s pickin’ emmie lou she’s grinnin’ me i’m soarin’ love and rockets they open up the sky

strictly bluegrass tales of pink dogs from hell and all that