Clive

Chee Kung Tong Society Hall Lot, March 2010. T...

Chee Kung Tong Society Hall Lot, March 2010. The cinderblock building that was next to the wooden hall. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Chee Kung Tong Society Hall Lot, March 2010. I...

Chee Kung Tong Society Hall Lot, March 2010. Inside the cinderblock buidling. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

2012 06 23 - 4063 - DC - Alley Urination Sign

2012 06 23 – 4063 – DC – Alley Urination Sign (Photo credit: thisisbossi)

Trade winds blowing in the hot summer dawn.  I stagger and fall and roll my swollen head and draw my knees up into fetal.  A breeze stirs in the sedge nearby.  Nervous system on fire with alcohol rebound.  I lull myself back to sleep with thoughts of an old gf as the traffic honks of early day resound through these concrete warrens.

Later I wake with the undersides of my eyelids inflamed by the high sun’s hammering from a bland and cobalt sky traversed by lightwires.  Looking up to see a ginger cat watching me from the top of a cinderblock wall.  As I turn my head to see it better it elongates itself like hot taffy down the cinderblock wall and vanishes soundlessly into the earth.

I lie on my back with my palms facing up like a stricken puppet and know that the stink that fouls the air is coming from me.  I close my eyes and moan.  Hot breeze creeping along the barren waste of old tires and scorched grass and rubble.  Ravens light on the wires overhead, foul white gouts squeezing from under their fanned tails.  I sit up slowly with a hand over my eyes.  The birds fly.

My clothes crack with a thin dry sound and clods of baked vomit fall from me.  I struggle to my knees, staring down at the packed black earth and cinders between my palms.  Stinging sweat rolls down into my eyes, cold sweat that makes me shiver and gag.  I lift my face to the desolation, the sedge in the reeking fields, raw landscape in which half familiar shapes rise from the trash heaps.

I try to swallow but my throat scrapes in agony.  Staggering to my feet I stand reeling in the apocalyptic waste like a prophet of a promised land that no one wants.  Sun and sky and breeze down concrete walls and this victim of turpitude reeling among them.

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