Poetry / Poets

The Emotional Desert of that Hotdog by Jon Bennett

It was at the auto shop

and an older mechanic named Victor

sat next to me in front of the office.

He wiped the grease from his hands

and lit a cigarette.

I knew he was worried because me and Darrin

had been doing a lot of cocaine.

 

“I remember back in the day

I’d been clean for a couple weeks,” said Victor,

and I got a job moving furniture.

 

Me and Darrin had gone up to Reno

and we had a lot of coke

so we snorted some

and smoked a joint with some in it

what we called cocoa puffs

but I did too much

and had a minor heart attack.

 

“I was jonesing bad,” said Victor,

“so I pulled to the side of the freeway

and started selling the furniture

right out the back.”

 

The thing is, I didn’t really like coke.

Speed was OK, but what I really liked

and I figured this out later

was beer and whiskey.

 

“Tell you the truth,” said Victor,

“I don’t remember what happened after that…but

it couldn’t have been good.”

 

“Yeah, I gotta watch out for that shit,” I told him,

and then went across the street to the 7-11

for a .99 cent hotdog.

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One thought on “The Emotional Desert of that Hotdog by Jon Bennett

  1. Jon Bennett has been published in a few poetry journals, and writes music reviews for MVRemix, and articles for Kush Magazine. He lives in Chinatown in San Francisco and works with people who have autism.

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