75 From Tallahassee

Why am I inside tonight. It seems like a nice night outside. Balmy with palmy trees and breezes. Smoke and sweat in here, there are tractor trailers parked out front. The drivers frizzyhaired rolling to the music are sitting here. Walking dead out of their rolling coffins and their ass paralysis. They sit next to me and to all sides. We are here, and we are together, and she climbs into her cage. Her eyes drooping like mine’s and her head was my reflection of timidity and euphoric displacement. She was with me somewhere else. The sounds roll by, heart, mine, thump, music, hers, pulse, shoes discard, thumpump. The lights stay on, not at all what I expected. Next to me, his stool now seeming to extend from his ass like a set of four legs. They were long thin knobby and inhuman. He smelled like shit. He rotated around his tool and faced to face the soft face of fawn front and center. She wriggled. Unfurling money he, reaching through the bars he, caressing her leg he touched her. She dropped her holster to the floor tickstick, marvelous life nourishment and mass. My chest weighed heavy and empty and open, my heart thumped like a thump thump of fists pounding on a bar. My naked life tickticks with the breeze and palmy trees and the road stretches long thin and inhuman.

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