THE AMUSEMENT PARKED

IN THE DARK

In the dark where the leaves of trees
block light and shadow,
cars sit near curbs.
I do not know either occupant or vehicle,

From my smoking place I see tail lights,

The less experienced keep a foot on the brake

while others sit in the darkness idling the motor.
All completing the trade

while adding to the smog of darkness.

A scene repeated every night
as stranger’s cycle through for
their blow job,

their heroin,

their lust for adrenalin;

their excitement of being in the slums

while cursing the law and occupants.

Constantly in prayer to a god of thrills

to let them safely escape

after they negotiate with the less than godly.

I feel the nervousness emanating

from the plastic and steel machines

as the deal is made,

the rush begun,

the ejaculation had,

the prayers answered one way or another.
I can feel the relief of the one true humanity

as it drives away, back to a suburban home.
I feel nothing if that car by the curb
is there loitering when dawn breaks.
Strangers, left to cook off in a hot car,
a left over smell of whatever hot lust killed them.

The morning curb tells the whole truth of the journey.

Bodies,

wrinkled tiny baggies,

sperm filled condoms,

garbage left for someone else.

Anyone so inclined to hide the night from the day.

Cleaning up though is not mandatory

and often not worth the effort

for tomorrow it will have to be done again.
Truth is that respect for another’s home
also is not an indispensable exercise.

© M Durfee

5/21/18

HEAD ON THE PIKE

ONE GOOD EYE

I have become mostly non vocal.
Not out of some great need
of silence or secretiveness.
I prefer to be judged honestly
for the decisions I have made in action

rather than the words of my mouth.
Lighting another smoke, I wait;
reactions will come, they always do.

© M Durfee
10/17/17

ACCEPT YOURSELF

SHITHEAD

Standing in my usual spot, smoking of course,
I see the lightening in the west well before
I hear the reply of thunder.
 
I have already shit in my fedora,
with the smoky thoughts I had
before the clouds started to roll in.

The smoking thoughts were more urgent
than the feeling I should go inside.

With the first drops of rain I had to make a decision.
Let the coming downpour wash out the hat
or just stake my claim to being a real shithead.

Neither is appealing
but on the other hand
neither is off putting either.

We all are what we have become
through a series of decisions.
Nothing more, nothing less.

© M Durfee
10/14/17