She sat down...

this is in the same vein as the others
cliched storytelling dressed as a poem
but I've always found stories 
in the weirdest of places 
and the inclination to write about them

strobing rainbow lights
incessant beats of psychedelic trance
whirpool of narcotics 
and alcohol enough to drown a small nation
in my grateful bloodstream
I sat in a corner
trying to look melancholy and menacing
all at once
but all I felt was a numb rage 
as was the norm those days

she walked toward me
swaying hips a trance of their own
hypnotic clickety clack of beads
hippie goddess with a nuclear smile 
with the eyes of an Oracle

she wasnt interested in me 
and that was a relief 
I am not one for company even on good days

you aren't fooling anyone 
she said as she sat beside me 
be honest, man
to the moment 
even if it is rage
be real
because we feel everything
but deny the truth
true love is selfish
we need love to survive
but we are afraid 
there is no nirvana
only a moment of kindness
we aren't being saved
God probably hates us
man will always kill
war is human nature
hope is our salvation
but we deny it to half the world
we hate each other
but we waste our time smiling
So on man, so on
she rasped in smoky voice
too many cigarettes 
and whole lot of mystery

give your anger it's time in the sun
let it breathe
give it wings
imagine if we all were honest
in this moment 
the world would survive it
and never look back
or we would all destroy each other
death is inevitable

and she left 

I thought it was--bullshit 
but entertaining
people say the weirdest things
under the influence
I almost forgot her
almost
until I realized 
that giving my rage a little expression 
might not be bad advice after all.

© Lost