In the dry, dusty streets of Southern California Butts littered about I tugged on the end of my Don Benigno cigar sucking the smoke into me I sat on the curb On the side of a ty motel In a ty part of town With my ty friend twittering endlessly in my ear My body is tired and my mind wanders 10 More days I think The sun starts to put itself to bed and I grow jealous My arms are weak and speckled with the days work The phones buzzes and I imagine the smooth circles of her hands going to work Her voice is solemn An anxiety grabs my tired heart And takes hold I smash the cigar Jealous of the sun And scared, scared of what I’ve already done