Not in the sensation
nor in any substance
I found the budding smoke
against the bitter pulp of your tongue
– an escapade –
stranger
in three seconds
you seemed like a new hero
unlikely to be born
but already running from death
with long undulating hair and cigarette smoke
as the aura of your magical feats of scorn ; –
I followed your pace briefly
soon losing sight of your epic trivialities.
I am intent of becoming hiccups
your dirty nails or the drunken laugh
with which all serious things
are consumed .
Where does your unguided purpose
take you now?
Who cares. Matters little.
I was simply eager
to be abducted
by some viscous phantom
a passing nondescript
taking me suddenly out
of my routine,
to exist carelessly
in the passive ruin and
ordinary acts
of someone else.