if i was going to where i

came from, i wouldn’t

know where to go. with

no home there’s no

beginning, so there can’t

be no end. i was told by a

queen that’s a good life.

i once lived in a basement

of some old building along

the 480 freeway in omaha.

my bed was in the kitchen.

through the bottom half

of the windows i stared at

dirt, garbage and rats. the

top half i watched legs

with no heads walk by.

some crazy, stinking lady

in the next apartment

would peek out her door

when she heard me

putting the key in the

lock. under my breath i

cussed that whore. she

knew i had cheap scotch

and good weed. she

followed me in and

plopped her big ass on

the only chair i had.

she’d put her .38 special

on the table. i swear she

pulled it out of that ass.

we would get brilliantly

drunk. she would start

with the same story,

about boyfriends that

pissed her off so she had

no choice but shoot ‘em.

especially the ones that

tried to pay with food

stamps. that old cunt

scared the hell out of me.

i never fucked her.

sometimes i wouldn’t

answer the door. she’d

stand there knocking for

an hour. i blamed her for

my cockroaches. that

could be my beginning. it

could be the time i ate

pussy or sucked a cock.

the pussies a few times,

the others i’ve lost count.

i had to pay my rent. i

started on schnapps

and swisher sweets at

eleven or twelve and

getting stoned at fourteen.

working it. home was

where my dick was. maybe

it was when i no longer

gave a shit but i wanted

people to like me. if not

knowing if i’m coming

or going, does it matter

when it begins or dies?

One thought on “eternity”

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