spooky wolf ambience

you're doing that dust mouth 
cracker whistle thing again
and no one is down to ride 
to ride dirty to ride at all really
there's a moment every so many seconds 
when one of us will mutter something 
and chuckle and then I'm left to wonder
scooter left at the curb unattended idly 
our soup taking longer
Paul McCartney's sunburn called 
left you a video message
oh I'm sorry it was only 
Peter Cetera's Bauhaus t-shirt
fading like a jazz flute solo over 
a pitcher of top shelf margaritas
a flaw considered a blessing by some
mainly in the past and the future
feel free to swing by if you find your sandals 
start to itch 
a nagging burn between 
painfully splayed toes
fancy fancy colors they keep singing 
and I wonder, "Where's that come from?"
I hardly ever wonder 
if you're still dying 
because let's be honest
now you're humming and whistling 
a Frank Zappa guitar solo through your nose
shaking your long hair around 
like Joe Cocker live on stage in 1970
high on PCP and a visible lack of sleep 
not to mention Rita Coolidge's saliva 
which was 2 parts per thousand pure pure cocaine 
methamphetamine STP LSD NRG
your lips now make a buzzing sound 
and your nostrils flare like a trumpet
no one wants your sad leftover 
sandwich wrap sandwich 
I keep telling you
particularly after you left 
such obvious teeth marks all over it 
bite marks 
like laying partial claims 
to every potential fuck buddy at the 
party like you wanted it to know 
who was boss 
when clearly you never came 
wrapped in wax paper
but perhaps I'm speaking 
out of turn 
out of a lack of anything really
urgent or important to say to you 
despite looking into your eyes and knowing
maybe you have been wrapped up 
in a waxy whirlwind 
of questions and doubt
coming or going 
or both 
or neither or whatever