Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I have been in Denver for three days

This new town in the desert. It doesn't really understand itself. Like a young overdeveloped girl. It's organic foods movement is Midwestern in its ideals but New York in its execution. Pizza by the slice shops everywhere where the cheese and the sauce is too good but the dough is slightly off. New York prices. Four fifty for a sausage egg and cheese in "Heidi's Brooklyn Deli" on the next block from me, down the street from a bar where the locals spit on Brooklyn and yell out when they make a shot in pool and get shitfaced at happy our. Get it? It doesn't fit. They call them bagels but really they're too soft and small and have too many flavors - jalapeno and parmesan is not a type of bagel. New York City needs to send over some of its proper Jews.

The cafe I'm sitting in has the best atmosphere I've ever seen and charges two dollars for a shitty cup of coffee. I ordered a latte and they gave me a macchiato. But the enthusiasm and the customers are there. The people as soft as the businesses. No aggression in anyone. On my first night I was playing pool against two drunk rednecks and one of them calls sloppy on a difficult shot that I didn't call. It was my only shot I said and he belched sloppy again and again after my back was turned. I looked at him and he said it again like a little kid like he was talking to himself. Eye contact but no momentum in his face.

Guys see me check out their girls and they don't change their facial expression and the girls look me up and down and we keep walking. It's ok to want to fuck people here. In Brooklyn if a hot girl looks you up and down you know it's go time in Denver it's hello. The guys are not herbs here. They are outgoing and over polite. No aggression like we have a pact of cooperation like disrespect is not in the spectrum of social interaction. I feel like I can seduce every girl like I can convince every guy it's in his best interest to be my friend. Like a piranha in a goldfish tank.

Why I have the chemistry of a 13 year old I don't know. Why I wake up in the morning with that itch in the center of my thigh muscles like if I don't fuck or go for a run I'm gonna kill you I don't question. More hours in my day like an abberation of the Earth's rotation. I said give me New York without the bad parts and bought a ticket and Jet Blue came up with the perfect answer. My mathematically immaculate life.

The doomed soldier hung in the jungle and screamed horrifically,
But the old doctor peeled his skin lovingly. He put the scalpel
Between his eyes to see if they had any secrets to reveal.

This lovely poem brought to you via a drunken game of immaculate corpse.