the dark is my deep breath

it is one of those nights
where i want to dance 
with the dead
 memories
are just cards on the table
that aren't mine

i see a red glow 
on the stairs
i think it might be an angel
but is just this beat-nick girl
smoking a cigarette

she used to hang out in graveyards
and read poetry
now she is on my steps staring at me
through sunglasses
while i write

my dead muse for the night
flicks ashes on her jeans

the dead and i
get high on each other
dead alive
alive dead
yin yang

waking up is my downer
i live my life at night
the dead are my mourning

no need for a buddhist
just some dead guy
whispering in my ear
to let it all fucking go
i never listen

 he died at 
a jimmy buffet concert
i experience his death
it feels like going to 
the dentist

the beatnik girl who 
hung out in graveyards
is shooting up in my bedroom
and smiling
she died peacefully
in some street in san francisco

the last thing she saw
was the trails of an airplane
in the sky

she thought it was the tail 
of the cheshire cat
her last memory
was her mother 
reading her alice in wonderland

she smells like spring rain
and cigarettes

when you die
it is mostly fear
​and regret