upper floor landing
with its creaks and
twenties design
the stained glass
portal to the porch
where the dopers
smoke and discuss
politics
write free verse
critiques to the local
goverment
they always have the
best hydroponic
yet still ode to the
classics roll em in
Zig Zag
The old Zenith console
with beer rings and
its patina of dusk
basks in its corner
on the landing
when I sit on the
stairs behind the
Lazy-Boi I can see
the hairdresser
salon across the
street...the wires
of old high test
and the busy
corner by pink
granite power
tower...legged
business women
and young
mommas pushing
children
at nite the skaters
troll past doing
tricks on the curbs
edge
the light cars patrol
past two too a unit
the computer consoles
shinning like sleek
cockpits

my oil slick enamel
door with two locks
has been broken into
and repaired
giant Robertson
screws
the money I didnt
care about
but they stole
my toilet paper
I got my radio back
maybe they had
a conscience
sans batteries

my bed stretches
from the equally
white enamel
room...a window
faces across steep
rooftops and lines
up with the seniors
structure
at night the stairwell
glows all the way to
the top and I never
see anyone on them
Elevator baby!!

I have a fifties square
table with gingham
oilcloth
the Remington typewriter
and empty bourbon
bottle with candle
a makeshift screen
too keep the alley
strays who climb
the fire escape
and party in my
room spraying
their territory with
au du Kat

I remember my
tawny and brawny
woman
a large tasteful
rose tatooed on
her right breast
her eyes were
the most glorius
color...long hair
painted nails
an oasis woman
in a pirates house
long after she
was gone back
too her husband
(the dealer wasnt
in that day)
my bed smelled
of our sex and her
perfume
it was a long spell
in the desert by
then
and my hair was
just starting to
grow past my
ears

she left her mascara
brush almost empty
on the sink
I used it for smudging
my sketches I did
a talisman of a happy
made moment
in a June cool spell
full of sunlight
slanted
on vintaged walls

...