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Salt as Quaint: Walked the Pavements


 


I’ve been counting


The drips that sounds


The impact of rainy days


Since this morning


Sitting by my doorsteps


And the door dies open


So that the morning radio


Can keep the background music


To 6 a.m. in check


And I’m getting off this step


That I’ve been sitting on


Since last night


With a bottle full of vodka


(opened but sober)


And a cigarette pack of 24


(opened but nothing smelling like the back of a beer-raped bar)


Hence the absent smell


Of tar on this jacket


Wet and spilled on by last night


‘Cause I’ve been feeling this way


For a quaint quite sometime


 


I was never able to walk that mile


Or prove any piece


Of being able to start walking


‘Cause these knees keep breaking down


And these arms stand so weak


And I’m watching the sky


Commit arsenal on itself


To bring about today


And I’m not in the mood


For the sun to paint my skin gold


Because it’s been painting me


A pale grey


Since last night


So why stop,


And I beg with homeless manners


To leave this paint on me


Which leaves me a little more


Cold


And I’m coughing


Due to weather this time


 


I’m leaving the bottle and cigarettes


By the sun-chased pavements


Just getting up


To go back inside


And to sit on the first


Few steps on the staircase


And burden my head on the rails


To think about how


Just one sip of alcohol


Can make me sleep off yesterday


And how just one cigarette


Can make me blow smoke


To your face and give me


An excuse for the forecast


Of my eyes to rain


Down salt


On days that slave me


To break sober


 


And make me put a cigarette


Between these chapped lips


And let it burn my feelings


To taste like yesterday


Because coal and wood


Weren’t available


To keep me warm


By the hearth


Shaped in words


That keeps me repeating:


“I’m sorry”


 


And cause me to stop


My face from drowning from salt


With the sleeve of my shirt


‘Cause I pretend to be strong


When people try to catch my hand


When I’m falling off sidewalks


When I’m drunk


And keep my words from spilling


When I’m high


 


But my hands keep killing off


People’s hands


Because mine are too frail to hold onto


But I can still walk on my own


And cops can’t tell me


That I’m too drunk to get home


Even if I can’t walk in a straight line


But as long as


I know these legs can


Get me home


I’m fine with that


Especially if my vision


Accepts swerving cars


As a possible route


I’m fine with that


 


Today


Watch me


Keep people away


With my salty insecurities


Insecurities that prove to themselves


That these hands can’t do shit


‘Cause this nonfiction of a story-deprived person


Ain’t got a reason to chase pavements


When he’s been let down by words


He tried to shoot at himself with


And try to achieve a throat scene


But just keep missing


The vital spots


And still leave him alive


But legless and armless


To stand


 


And I’m noticing


An afternoon-waited cup of black coffee


Sitting by these stairs


That keeps this house an icehold


But reminds me


That tomorrow


Will taste the same


As today’s or yesterday’s


Salt


 


The décor of mind of this


Loss of a person


Is beautiful


Like light bulbless lamps


In this house that keeps


Me a sketch of shaded grey


 


Now


I’m watching the sky pour


And this window pane rain


Where the salt rapes down


The glass as I touch


How cold this pane feels on these


Fingers that relieve me


From the heat


Supplying this case of a


Person living


Because the sound of a


Beating pulse exists


But slows


 


Sometimes


I wake up by


The doorsteps


Just watching


The sky get dry


While it wets


How I feel today


And I’m grabbing


For a bottle of pills


That makes me sleep off


Tomorrow


 


But no matter what


Salt is on my tongue


On my cheeks


And wiped off


By long sleeves


And it looks like


I’m raining


 


I can’t do shit


 


                                                 - salt needed for a dinner table; loveless