the contract

“rent a motorcycle for the inconspicuous license plate.
drive to poughkeepsie and stroll into a dive bar.”

i’ve dyed my hair
and i’ve bought my jewelry at the gas station.
and then i locate the loner stoner who drinks whiskey
because he knows i know he knows where to find what i need.
the mission isn’t complete until i return home
cash deposit returned. five hundred dollars in my pocket,
barely stuffed in next to what i came for.

this assignment is a spiritual contract.
after too many whiskeys and revelations we must sign our scribbles in the dust.
five hundred dollar bills fall out of my pocket and it doesn’t matter.