Every night
I used to wander round in circles
through the back parking lot behind the apartment
after smoking, letting my mind time-travel
I would perform an inebriated balancing act
on parking blocks
as the world passed me by
and the neighbors spilled their guts
inbetween puffs
I’d soak it all in
the noise, the ambulance sirens,
my neighbor’s shitty day, my friend’s stream of consciousness

I would walk down to the bar
that never could get it’s shit together
I’d pay cover, the band would be at the bar, their instruments left on stage
so I’d leave after a few bored drinks
to the bar across the street
which also never could get it’s shit together
where philosphy students
sitting under umbrellas at one in the morning
would discuss free will and all that jazz
on my way out
I would pass them
and fire some drunken drive-by words of wisdom
just ‘cus

I’d tell myself I was supporting the community
with my dollars and whiskey breath
that I got real lucky that time ’round
that I wouldn’t do or say that again, live and learn
somehow I possumed my way ’round at night
where others aren’t always so lucky
but there was something restless, about those nights
the need and fear of a good night out
to be owned by the story of the moment
a character in a graphic novel
where everyone is the main character
and the reality of free will is the laugh after the joke