My blood is too thick
for Nevada. I’ve never been
able to properly explain myself
in this climate– always thinking
that just behind some narrow door in
all my favorite bars,
men in red woolen shirts are
getting incredible kicks from things
I’ll never know.
I know
these people in my goddamn
blood, though. Won’t be long now before
they tear me to shreds.
Too weird to live, too weird to die–
just another freak, in the
freak kingdom, humping
the American dream. Never able to
accept the notion that
you can get a lot higher without drugs
than with them.
But with the right kind
of eyes, you can almost see
the high-water mark– that place
where the wave finally
broke and rolled back,
that sense of inevitable victory
over the forces of
old and evil,
whatever it meant.
Silenticel 