This Dope Monkey on the Brink of Dereliction

The sun overcame shyness to embark triumphantly treading slowly signing high noon. I shuffled into that Denny's, bacon's distinct flavor hit my nostrils, my stomach groaned and growled crying for some greasy consumption. My skins scales baked burnt from the previous week of exhausting exposure, but I was confident that tonight I would slip beneath the depth's of night to finally crash comfortably and sink deep into exile of peace. I wanted to sleep indoors dammnit, I was a punk on an extended mission. Rest assured I would find mine friends, but first I had to figure out some form of contact information and I knew I couldn't call my grandparents. That avenue would have been convenient but it would involve going against the plans of alluding my family. My parents had been hounding my friends incessantly from the day of my initial departure. My ego took it's turn around the dining room, believing to be the center of everyone's attention, all eyes on the wanderer, unique and full to the brim with teenage wit and wisdom. I exhaled as my breath rose glowing neon, adding to this aura of mystery I tried to cooly convey convincingly. I located a pay-phone and thumbed thru an attached Paso Robles telephone directory. I failed to find them, I felt the air deflate my confidence but my resilience aided me. I stared chatting it up with some of the wait staff. I remember this young black chic overhearing me asking about the Jenkowski's, her ears perked, her head rotated finding me, grabbing my attention I trekked over to her relieved that I had found this connection.

"Hey yea I go to school with Rustin and his sister," she said without a shred of reluctance to reserve this knowledge for herself.
"Yea I'm an old friend of theirs from Texas and I really need to find them. I left their number back home," I explained trying to conceal my exploding eagerness, excited I didn't want to destroy this link. She could've very well have assumed that I was a mad stalker. I refrained from mentioning Lisa and told her I was real tight with Rustin. She would be more likely to give me the information I wanted if I kept my inquires on him versus his sister to avoid producing some stalker image that could cloud her willingness she seemed to express. She grabbed her purse without hesitating and shuffled through it looking for Rustin's home number (this was just the beginning of teenagers having cell phones, most of us proudly carried pagers). She retrieved a small brown contact book and then looked at me smiling intensely but I believe that I had just perceived her kind expressiveness to be more than what she was really portraying. It was mostly in my head, I was the one smiling with the intense emotional relief. I really was quite a desperate boy. I was starting to turn terribly mad in my lonely offbeat state. I admired the derelicts I read in books naively, but on the brink of becoming a lunatic at such a young age I was truly afraid. Fear filled to the brim eventually equals a sad grave, and even at this present time 12 year later I am learning more about this and all its immense interlocking dangers.

wordplay poem to exercise this monkeys brain

Creepers climb from the pits of my stomach,

signal some song silly strained stitched slang,


dope monkey!

Fort Worth Dope Monkey!

Dallas Dope Junky!

Recover the passion,

Christ loves my passion,

my fear is lifted and now the devil is afraid,

I am not in you realm,

filter your evil eating my steeple,

Love is so grand in its ultimate climatic stand!