smoking
six dollar suicides on the dock of quiet words in the river where anchors lay silent
sipping
forty proof sweet liqueur on the roof of raining flames in the abandoned home of ancient ideals
scribbling
bitter sonnets on the wall of chemical love letters in the alley of illegal activities and search warrants
singing
icky thump with a lump in my throat on the road of red light regrets in the white car where secrets aired off in the breeze

it was home or
something like it