Sandpoint

Sandpoint
Sadie takes our order
the neon "open"
sign
struggles
to shine
as
the sun
has yet to fall
The band
from
Seattle
so I drink
Canadian whiskey
The liquor store
the video store
and the street cleared of
snow fall
cars pass slow
on the
one way street
where mothers
in wool
and toques
and scarves
push children
in upscale
hippie strollers.
Cody with
rhythm in his head
and the man
in the black vest
bends harp
and he's gunna
give me what I want
right now
in the aftermath
of jealousy
of a soaked soul
in kerosene
It's fertilizer
and coke
all in one line
and piss
drips
beneath the urinal
and it's feels
alright tonight
as I hack lyrics
and smile
into a mugshot
and put gasoline
down the gullet
and baby
you shouldn't be out alone
Some hack writer
may find you out
cold in an old coat
and something
to believe in
something to shelter
from the cold wind
A hack writer
stealing words
before they lay down
like an old man
with a wooden leg
with no money
and little to change.

One For The Boss

They call her
Panama Redz
The shots filled the sky
a ring of smoke
drifted from the barrel
Good thing her aim
was shit
Someone sounded
an alarm
He hid the stash
Panama Redz
tipped the rum bottle
and
laughed.

Blue Skies

At the Panamanian border Jack limped across the bridge with the woman and boy in tow. He hoped that it would be less stress than into Costa Rica. The bottle of Nica rum fit into his hind pocket covered by his shirt tail, he knew that he would need it shaking as he did. The hounds were on his heals and his cover was thin, he'd shaved and cut his locks but that fucking scar face of his would stick out like a sinner at church. They had been traveling with a group of Gypsy's but Jacks drunken misbehavior had the three of them ejected from the caravan. So there he was with a cut knee and broken ribs crossing the river bridge not to look back. The future was vague and the money thin, but with that bottle of Nica rum in his hind pocket, Jack owned the world under clear blue skies.

Spaghetti Hounds

Denny Blue lends a broken tooth smile
as he and Jack part ways.
Jack headed south
and Denny north.
Crossing the border
re-entry into
Costa Rica
the spaghetti hounds
rip at Jacks hair
and spray him with
DDT.

Casino Royal

Denny laughed so hard his tooth fell out.
He's on his way to a wedding in the cold lands.
Jack walked out of the casino
$2500 cordobas richer
buying drinks for all.
They ate drank and laughed
for $40 US.

11:00 am

It was hard for Jack to write without drinking, either he was hung over or drunk when he created the best.

that fucking Polack
sucking on Jack's security blanket
"I'm paying you tomorrow
for beer I drink tonight".
Denny Blue sick in bed
Lorenzo Pelon
making all laugh without language
licking shit dust and cookies from the street.
The night guard never witnessed such madness
in a place where
coffee is so thick
cream vanishes into a Bermuda triangle
and thirst for beer welcomes a Polack beating
A beer will taste great
at noon
because only alcoholics drink
before noon
and that's why my writing stinks

Pranksters and Drunks

After one month at the same place it started feeling like they we're living down there. They found all the outlets, they bought rum on the corner and cigars off the plaza, they drank prior to dinner at The Black Iguana and played billiards above the arches. the streets always covered with shit and the gutters flowed with gray water. Denny directed traffic and Jack awoke with the shakes eating fruit in bed and reading Miller's Tropic of Cancer, where cunts were so great they swallowed men whole. The boy had grown, not only physically, but his voice had changed. For the moment, time stood still as the rum spilled. Jack grew old in the Central American time warp with broken ribs and shakes in the morning. His wife was the strong hold, the one certain in life, she watched over them like broken sheep, catching Jack when he fell and filling his glass when it emptied. She made arrangements, she knew what day of the week it was, she retained the names of dark streets. She loved Jack deep into the night while the boy slept dreaming of some place sane far from here. It was if they themselves had become Merry Pranksters only they had missed the bus. They danced on 200 year old floors above the bartender, spilling drinks that found their way through the cracks in the floor onto the patrons below.
The monkeys had been trained to pick coconuts on plantations so it was easy for them to adapt to human tasks. Denny trained them to operate the blender and pour Pina Coladas. The monkeys had a hard time choosing which pineapples were ripe so every once in a while Denny and Jack fell ill to the toxicity. It was Fair Trade, The monkeys ate mangos on margarita days and bananas on daiquiri days. Fair Trade Alliance Monkey Co-operative.