Going Daffy In a Messy World

"GOING DAFFY IN A MESSY WORLD" inside that four-cornered room I slept with her and the Mickey's that love potato chips. inside that room where we made love, we smoked our smokes above the doghouse. there were cigarettes in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening, in the rain and in the middle of the night when the poor bastards of the city walked like the old hookers of London. it's said the only sure thing is death. for us, we haven't died. we gave life to a box with a window overlooking the grapefruit tree. inside, I made her moan, bite her lip and climax. inside, she tore my life apart with a single question, threw blankets in the dryer, and she gave me a clean shirt to dry myself after a shower when there was no towel. the short life I've had with her isn't what defines the value. it's the decision I made to write about her from the very start. our days together were stubborn like a dead car in the middle of rush-hour. I now look out another window but the thought of her remains like a felony until death. she looks out the same window above the doghouse and wonders if I too, have become an old hooker from London. the grapefruit tree followed our moves, listened to our words and got a *********** movie every night. as the tree continues to bear fruit, the only confusion left, is why I thought it was a lemon tree. By: Chicano Eddie 1-16-2017