hipsters wearing gun holsters. they shoot blanks all evening. moon hot & shining. is it my fault i squint at everyone who addresses me? i dont wear cowboy boots. i offend three girls by referring to the vagina as 'beaver'. rum punch! shouts a boy in cowboy hat. rum punch! licked eyelids, hair stiff with grease: i try to work 'beaver' into every conversation, i try to 'feel it.' later, my friend danny face-down in the front yard. when we pick him up the next morning at the station, he is still swaying, says want to stop & get some eggs? yeah, some eggs.
my head ached all goddamn day.