space in the '70's

we smoke too many cigarettes
in your small car
until smoke stings our eyes
and i'll start to talk
about walt whitman
and you'll pretend
to listen
but it's okay.

we laugh at your story
of your dog biting your brother's dick
then you tell me the story
you've told me a hundred times
about the day he went away

we'll laugh away the smoke
we'll laugh until it becomes apparent
that we are no longer laughing
i'm trying to wash it
but it won't come out

ash singed a hole in your stockings
showing your skin.
it was pretty.

by Austin Cunningham