By Misti
Date: 2005 Feb 22
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[[2005.02.22.10.25.30833]]

Rubes With Lube

whatever cages once contained me
have melted into the sea
I'm flying free crashing
cashing in
winning is not
the point

in the other room I hear him singing
"I'm just mad about Saffron"
wearing my old Victoria's Secret
pajama pants
he wheels himself in the borrowed wheelchair
to the convenience store next door
to buy cinnamon cigarillos
not to smoke
only chew on
as he finishes writing a trilogy of short stories
he began two years ago
I am so
in love

last night he drank Cape Cods in honor
of Hunter S. Thompson
I took another cold pill
and we watched "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas"
in bed
then tossed and turned against each other
all night
passing the tissues
never getting
comfortable

he tells me he knew I was a star
when he saw me walking into work
wearing mismatched socks
and a black leather jacket
carrying a new metal lunchbox
every night
carrying around my pop art collages
and passing around my oh so eclectic
mix tapes

he's the star, I tell him
the retired rock star without the money
but all the charisma and sex appeal
and charm and presence
I crave

we aren't safe yet
not by a long fucking shot
but sometimes I glimpse the light
and everything that matters is right and
everything else will fall
away.