Thursday, September 17, 2015

poem of the day 09.17.15

winona soul

winona ryder
could love me i think
watching welcome home roxy carmichael
with kris and angie
winona my last hollywood crush
oh, how she used to make mary so jealous
as if winona would just show up at my home
and whisk me off with her to california
but i think this is a good night
a quiet saturday night at angie’s
tacos tori amos the sea & cake winona soul
i’m not going to think about
how steve told me that i was pussying out
how even calvin got into the act
making whiplashes over the phone
as if i were some kind of kept man
for wanting one night away from the neon drag streets
one morning where the bile didn’t rustle my stomach
i bet winona ryder could love me
like kris and angie holding hands on her couch
like the way they looked last night
toasting martinis and sinatra at the balcony
i bet in los angeles i could learn to love the sun
sit poolside helping winona rehearse
write me a sunset strip blues
but i haven’t written in weeks
just lay in bed sleep listen to liz phair
listen to my old man ask me when i’m getting a job
maybe the next time i’ll tell him
i’m waiting on winona like waiting on godot
to come roaring up our little shit street
in a cherry red convertible singing
i can turn your gray skies blue, ah
before we burn burn burn burn west turning gold.


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