the same thing happens every night

there's a crowded rest stop
off the 5
the exact location of which
is marked permanently
on my left palm
thanks to one ridiculous excuse for an ex-girlfriend
and a hot needle
it's the one
mark she left me with
over which we never fought
and it's the only one
in retrospect
i believe
i should've
made a stand about

i approach the oracle
she looks at the bags
under my swollen eyes
and tells me
i've been
staying up too late
with crowley's deck of cards again
she looks
at my left hand
and says
there's something i've been missing
somewhere
on the other side
of the dryness of the grapevine
off the 5
but "no," i whisper mechanically
"i don't miss anything
about california.
the women are deadly
the palm readers
are shifty-eyed
elusive
sweaty
toothless
mean nostalgia seeking
missiles
aimed to haunt
and they won't even
accept money
so that in the future
i might
somehow save myself
by saying
all he wanted was a free ride
toothless
shifty-eyed
and all

los angeles?
a wasteland -
rancid gambling town for the soul
but unlike vegas
if you get there
drunk and broken hearted
six a.m.
with twenty dollars
looking for thanksgiving
ghetto lalaland
will always win

and i'm the first
to tragically
give the northern side
its due
for
visceral melancholia
poisonous
romantic fog galore

wander telegraph
a dozen
times
and you will soon achieve
awards
for loneliness
drop acid
once and twice
then think about
your sexual passes
at the u.c. sophomores
gather friends
to make
a pool
of piss
on an
unfamiliar
street
for childish
screaming
glee

but unfortunately
it also happens to be

the very first place
i fell in love
and caught
a venereal
disease
in the same week
which set a trend
in my life
incidentally
but now i look inside the mirror
see a tired man
as hungry
and as challenged
from the grocery store
to a suicidal love affair
it is the same
for me -
the satisfaction
and the suffering
the same

i had a line
between the last
few lines
in mind
i had a life
before
this wife
of mine
brought me
to earth
from california
life
of misery
in memories
where love
has taken place
of these

i'm stronger now
or so i'm told
astrologers
toss
fools' gold
who will
read to me
from reference
books
with slick
but obvious
business hooks
my preference
without pride
became
the greater life
of lesser pain

this is the crux
where every night
i'm surrounded by
the ghosts
of l.a. gangsters
chanting:
"shout out
to the west side
cause we all know
it's the best side"
i lay
restlessly
unseen by them
while desperately
attempting
to imagine
portland
has the least
to do
with what
they celebrate