PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’m laying across the bed in a cheap hotel in downtown San Diego.  My feet are sore with blisters from hours of walking.  I’m glancing thru Second Coming Vol 13 # 2 and Huysman’s Against The Grain.  Seems odd to be buying books in California.  Feeling like Bukowski; almost bought a book by Bukowski.  I am planning some new works and wondering about Zukovsky and Appollinaire in a Wendy’s chomping down a bacon cheeseburger.  Limping up a street daydreaming about love.  Looking out the window at cars, people passing by with Super Bowl madness.  Seems strange to be lost in the middle of all this not even remembering home or writing and just bouncing in and out of love every 45 minutes or so.  Not even able to read and it’s too early to sleep.  It’s only 8:18 PM.  Way too early to sleep and I already blew thru the LA Times (San Diego edition).  The teriyaki fish filet for dinner is still lingering on my taste buds even though it was washed down by apple nectar juice.  So now back to the dive.  Well it is a bed and I can shower in the morning.  I’ll be clean for the flight back to Philly.  Running low on cash so a jaunt to the bar is out.  I will survive.  It ain’t hard to see.  At least I’m having fun though I was a little peeved yesterday because I couldn’t shake fatigue.  Now I’ll just journey forward again.  A little sleep in a cheap hotel bed and then head back East.  Reread the sports section and drink my 40 of PBR.  I’ll be home soon enough.

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