on a monday night bus headed down market to hear josh dj
two other folks in the back with me
a ragtag arrayed older black man with white face fuzz and purple one-armed glasses leaning askew, missing more than a few teeth,
and a snappily dressed young hispanic man
frenetically looking out the window, looking out the rear of the bus, definitely paranoid, definitely coke.
he offered homeless some crack and left the bus in a hurry.
we shared a laugh over this frantic fool, and sighed over the detrimental effects of cocaine
not of pot thought, he asked if I cared to smoke a bowl.
who was I to turn down such an experience as that?
the financial district streets were empty, we wandered through where I worked at wired by day
into an alley, he's packing the bowl ready,
I feel some tension, like there's something going on, some hidden agenda or something
he gives me the first of many intense gazes over his broken glasses:
you knew when I looked at you on that bus that I wanted to suck your dick.
no! I thought you looked like an interesting guy, and you might have some interesting stories to tell!
he didn't believe me. he tried to talk me into it,
you know i would devour your cock.
woah! the politics are too fucked up,
and i have a girlfriend!
you can treat me like you wont treat your girlfriend.
these powerful suggestions were making me edgy - I wasn't supposed to be turned on by toothless gums
i decided to leave, under a freeway by now,
he told me where to find him.
i thought, allen ginsberg would have done it,