The Vicious Hour

We were all indecent. That was the allure of us.

But it was easy to be indecent when you had nothing to stay awake for. Then, in the deep hours of the early morning, we allowed ourselves to come to life.

We hit ourselves in the head and took a bat to the knees--on more than one occasion. We made decisions that seemed like a good idea in the darkness but were deemed regretful upon the first glimpse of sunrise.

We rolled around and pulled the sheets above our nose, so you could only see the whites of our eyes. And we drove our cars past the edge of the city while listening to side two of The River. And we parked at gas stations we believed never to have existed--until now.

But it was all for the poppy and the great pursuit of the velvet underground. That's all it ever came down to. It was never for the love of him--or her--or them--but only because we were captivated and legally blind for it.

So we put on our gunmetal and we took to the streets. After awhile, we had invented a new kind of solitude. And that was all we knew from.

Well, that, and that we knew better.