sweet pea

copied directly from printer paper found in my purse this morning, the morning after...

these little moments
what causes change
is there a hero?
taxi driver
pimp
relation to art
writing of the will
money-having it, lack of
defining
white suburban kids
where people came from
with roots
how people have lived

you find yourself talking to randoms at the bar, his name is joe, theyre slipping you their phone numbers on napkins because you say you like that sort of thing and youve never felt so alive. the walk home youre smiling, youve taken a half day and gone shopping with your best friends boyfriend and didnt buy a thing except drinks at the gold dust in between sport coats and silk blend pants. the whiskey tasted somewhat like dead fish and sweat but it does the trick and you and he are laughing through tourists and sweat forms on your brow like a crown.
at 1030 you find yourself outside, alone, smoking a cigarette while your friends talk to boys at the bar and youre sitting on an overpass above kearney and sutter when all the sudden youre 16 at CSSSA crossing the freeway above mcbean pkway for the first time and it strikes you that youre still trying to figure it all out.
at 1045 all you want to do is touch your boys face. you think of how long its been since your mouth smelled like his and youve been wearing his shirt to bed at night but its losing his smell and becoming yours. night and time will do that, you know.
after trin leaves things feel quiet and you take the bus to work listening to old songs and the last five days arent even real.