17.11.15



she laughed bitterly  almost snorting
   
her head was tilted back
laid in the crook of his elbow
her hair spilled onto the rear dash
he put his arm up across the back seat to hold her close  subtly trying to stabilise her shore up her listing sanity


I think Im going mad  she said

she took a drag off the cigarette she bummed from him  
exhaling
               the smoke boiled up against the darkened glass above her face 
passing under amber coloured streetlamps it was laced and exaggerated with noir shadows cast by the cursive font
of a death decal that celebrated someone he didnt know and didnt bother to try and read their name in reverse


Maybe  Ive got a death wish

Baby  he said  nobodys got a death wish  They might think they do  But anyone whos been close to it dont want it

You say as if you have

I have

How

Thats in a trash heap Ive left behind  Youll have to take me at my word


she reached up to the decal with her free hand as she took another drag
she picked at it with her fingernail


So strange isnt it

It is

Why did he apply it

he said quietly  I wouldnt ask now  Hes been cool offering us a ride to your place  Asking might offend him and I aint keen to walk in this neighborhood with you under my arm in your state

In my state Whats my state

Oh Goin mad Got a death wish  Maybe its two states presenting as one and Im misreading them
Hes letting you smoke in his car

Hes smoking

Its his car Aint his brand Some guys I know better would have say no



at the edge of a shimmering cone of light they passed a busted up tin garbage can on the curb 
 
a big black bird sat on top of it thumbing for a ride



We shouldve stopped

We shouldve stopped for the bird  That could be like answering a knock at a door and opening it  finding nobody there  Except you welcomed death in

Superstitious

Not particularly  But the decaled death year just ran across your face backwards like a fat bug

Jesus
she went to swipe at her face and smeared hot ash on her forehead Jesus
he quickly brushed it away
the red embers croaked went black in midair before landing on her pale yellow blouse or the leather seat

FUCK  the driver said swerving to avoid the wreck of a tubular metal display heaped on the street
The shit people pull  Fuck with a guys ride  Whad Da Fuck Anyways
Animals


then on occasion  off to the side of the street  lurking in the deft shadows between the evenspaced lighted posts were thrown retreads  like lazy coiled straps or ruptured black alligators seals or lizards
                                                                                                                                                 animated by hints
or ones sullen imagination



positively after 0000,  Sunday,  15  11.15
0056,  Twoday,  17  11. 15


“She laughed bitterly, Maybe Ive got a death wish.

Nobodys got a death wish, he said. They might think they do. But anyone whos been close to it dont want it.”  pg168
The Water Knife  Paolo Bacigalupi