My Try at Poetry...and being a scenster

Listening to Whisky Flats Bosque Brown
There is some music and it reminds me of Long Beach,
of smoking pot and ruined painting,
of sitting out on the balcony and watching the rain,
of my clean room and designer bathroom,
of my art studio and late nights,
of scensters and backyard concerts.
Funny little people with their thrift store cloths and facial hair.
Ripped panty hose and head bands.
Bright lip stick and sloppy hair.
Pabst and red room.
A sea of flannel in a brunette sky.
Friends, beautiful beautiful friends. That at this moment I miss and think fondly of.
I miss that artist side that you brought out of me.
I don’t miss the smelly bums and the angry metro people...or the ghetto birds.
I do miss walking and riding my bike completely drunk down 4th street.
I do miss the gays and how sweet they are with their leather chaps walking me home on a late night.
I miss the smell of yummy Thai food, walking to the liquor store for ice cream.
I miss the night before Christmas,
I miss hanging out at the house with Levi wrapping presents and cooking food and drawing.
I miss football Sundays,
and art Sundays
and mimosa Sundays
and anything Sundays in Long Beach.
I miss Marissa and Auggie and walks down the street.
I miss that java place we use to go to and talk for hours about the amazing thing we would do with our lives and girl we will.
I miss random encounters with ray ray at the iguana or que sera.
I miss running over to Megan and Mike’s for tivo or cloths or hugs.
I miss the cuddle session at Desi’s with Thomas and Tender Ben and Ray Ray.
I miss birthdays in long beach and the place we would go on foot, V room, then red room, maybe ferns, then the pike. O Ferns!
I don’t miss Ferns…
It smells like Chlamydia and I once got a party favor full of nick nacks and cat food…hmm.
I miss that we all lived so close to one another and we all loved each other and their was no drama.
We could play wii for hours and sit on a couch and laugh at Lynn because weed affects him so much.
We didn’t need money and we didn’t need a fancy place, we made good times, we made them with our bare hands.
I loved that time;
I loved it and hated it.
I got nothing done;
I was in my social mecha, very little sleep, lots booze and heaps of fun.