Let the Motel Room Neon Light be My Confessional ~ Benjamin Blake

Let the Motel Room Neon Light be My Confessional

I sliced open these hardened veins
Leaving me cauterizing with alcohol yet again
It's the heart or the bottle
Or a combination of the two

I once fucked two girls on a football field
When night had fallen
And their boyfriends celebrated a birthday
Only yards away

You have no idea of the depravity
Of the secrets buried
Beneath a sly smile
And a horoscope
of hopelessness

The Real Roominghouses of Los Angeles

Hanging out
For the sweet smog-choked Southern California sun
There are much worse ways to asphyxiate
And I hold little fear of death, anyway

To lie buried beneath
A mountain of scattered screenplays and unpublished novels
In a cheap hotel room
As the streetlamp flickers through the curtainless window
And the roaches scuttle with purpose across the typewriter keys
Drawing the death-rattle of the dying
I will be sated enough

Illegal Firearms

City lights, beneath a burning skyline
Bums and taxi-cabs crawl on by
Left in the bar, lipstick note scrawled on a napkin
I should have washed my hands of her months ago
But for all my education, I never seem to fucking learn
Cross my heart and the choked street
The end is nigh

Chain-smoking Parliaments and making plans
Cable channel porn playing from the den
This time tomorrow night
Our rendezvous will be well under way
There’s always time for a lengthy dip in the local quarry

There’s Always Mexico

Trying to keep the aces in my hand
But these fingers won’t cease to shake
I’ve developed a penchant
For trying my luck at Russian roulette
No matter how hard I try and pretend
I know it’s just a matter of time
Each and every day
I make myself sick to the stomach
And do my best to hide in fiction
But this is more surreal
Than any pill-induced dream
And she’s just a fey as I am
So I’m putting down all I have
If all else fails
There’s always Mexico

Benjamin Blake was born in the July of 1985, and grew up in the small town of Eltham, New Zealand. He is the author of the novel, The Devil's Children, the poetry and prose collections, A Prayer for Late October, Southpaw Nights, Reciting Shakespeare with the Dead, and Standing on the Threshold of Madness, as well as the forthcoming split, All the Feral Dogs of Los Angeles (with Cole Bauer). Find more of his work at www.benjaminblake.com

Photo by Craig Whitehead