The Pier

I'm out last night with this friend I haven't seen in over a year - we used to 
	get loaded
and climb to the top of the psych building, piss off the rooftops, laughing 
	shit-faced
little buddhas, we were always girking around -  I can't barely stand the 
	freedom of it, the anguish
of jar-faced children chasing butterflies, the horror of being young -  no more 
	bullshitting 
under the giant loco moon, no more sparring and laughing now but we're older so 
	anyway 
Downtown Chicago he's finishing with medschool and of course, we like we used to 
	fucking get loaded 
go to a bar and drink and drink and drink, and later we slip under a fence to 
	the pier with a case 
of something I don't remember what, and now we're just pissing into this cold, 
	terrible wind



josh buermann © 1999