(For Nina louVe) Please join me while I pound down the whiskey and read this little piece inspired by Fishturn and dedicated to the lovely Nina louVe.

Music “Baby Doll” by Cat Power

I have died before

I am sure of it

Simply expired like the date on a milk carton

Or perhaps on a marriage certificate

It’s like that sometimes

A man or woman’s invisible number is up

Their loved one(s) cease to see them

And simply walk out the door. Easy.

Like magic my time was up. I was gone

There is proof of this-

I would walk down ally ways or dirt roads

In my ghost state to reach a tiny sign that read

“Papayas For Sale-Wednesday Only”

Nobody saw me

I was sure I was an oddity

Who cared for such things anymore? The dead?

No one came to shop that day, bad luck day.

I would buy all eight of them

From the small Oakland, Dakar, Brooklyn

Paris, Scarborough…wherever

Street vender stand

Now I don’t give a damn about expiration date

And understand the importance

Of fermentation

It is February

The season of the forced smiles

Painted lips, tiny handbags and “getting in shape”

People contemplate suicide. The scent of rain

Leather and car upholstery mixed with booze, ganja

And the common perfume drill the nights in further

Regrets crawl out of the black mold

People make promises in February, it is strange

Don’t believe them