drinking whiskey in the park at night (idea)
|how did we end up there? oh yes.|
it was midnight and you called. i'd been drunk before, that day, and maybe i still was. the last sunday, i'd punched you in the face and we ended up kissing. so we went to your house and you made a hamburger and there was half a bottle of jack daniels hidden in a dresser drawer.
we drove to the park down the street and we climbed between the kid-sized wooden planks of the giant toy. you put your head in my lap, and we passed the bottle back and forth and talked about nothing.
about the capital theater and the basement of the library building, about canada and writer's block. you made up words (and later, i learned, one meant rotten teeth in japanese). and you kissed me, and pressed me down against the uneven logs of the platform.
it started to rain, but it was warm so i lit a cigarette to celebrate. you took it from my hand gentle as an afterthought, and smoked until i took it back. and the whiskey was gone but my mind was as clear as the stars. you said, 'come home with me,' but i couldn't because you smelled like my dad.
i've been here not quite a year, but it feels like forever ago.