Unicorns

Take a taxi over to your mother’s apartment

on Beloit, you are squared away

in the camper across the street

There is a girl in a dead sleep

inside with a tattoo of a spider on her chin,

mouth agape, occasionally mumbling in her coma,

We drink Budweiser while I interrogate you

About your last jail stint and Tijuana taxi stories

 

The cigarettes get lost

and the camper Is upside down without a sign of hope

It’s 4AM too late to walk inconspicuously to the 7/11

I offer a clove and you tell me about lung cancer

as you accept my offer

 

We tremble in past and talk about

all our dead friends, all of our ex’s

and what we wish

we could have said or done different,

then shrug.

 

We make confessions.  Create promises

and day dreams.   You promise me, again,

this time no heroin, no slamming speed

 

And I want to believe