I end up at a party but it’s a bunch of poets upset about the marketplace. I don’t even bother with
excuses I just leave. Head over to the bus but fuck the bus. I forget the rest. I’m on a beach,
everything is overblown like a polaroid. I would seriously sleep with everybody on this beach with
one or two exceptions. I feel like I’ve been here my whole life. Somebody hands me a can of soda
dripping with ice like a fucking hero. I don’t even know what death is right now. The sun is setting
into the ocean like it’s laughing in its own face. I pull out my phone, look up whatever’s opening that
weekend and everybody’s like I’ll watch the shit out of that shit.