Time to Drink the Wine (poem)
I found this poem from last summer, I was in LA and I decided to walk from Downtown all the way to our hotel in Studio City, just like how I used to walk to Montmartre from the Champs-Élyseés at night when I was a kid. I wrote this along the way by talking to my phone.
I took Beverly from 2nd Street
That’s a long way home for tired feet
Couldn’t get myself off the beat
I got these legs to move around
Everything was cold and wet
Looking for a drier bed
I couldn’t remember the words you said
So I made up something better
What is left to hand me down?
Dirty sheets and a broken crown
The motor runs but it makes that sound
Like it’s dying just by working
I couldn’t keep my game-weight down
I had to sell all the things I'd found
Pennies for a dollar-pound
Of shit I can’t replace
But I was lucky to keep my shirt
I ate some shit but it was mostly dirt
If no one’s looking does this even hurt
If I can roll out through the storm
Do I wait for the sun to shine?
Is there ever a better time
Did I learn to love the blues
By knowing someone has to lose?
Maybe nothing else is true
But that it’s time
To drink the wine
written in Los Angeles (5/4/18)