Hot mush for my gut

First day back
home,
pouring soup down
my throat
to hold off the pain

during
I thought
of the most
low down strip club
in Atlanta, full of
middle age
strippers w/
no teeth
or a sense of self
worth
displayed as
novelty

sick of debauchery
I stood outside
next to a guy
apparently a writer
too___, but
a different sort,
the type that
writes scripts
for money

he told me how
to pick
my battles & write
crap that sells
to fund
what is real about
me

as it was time
to go
I left no
contact info, instead
said: I’ll never see
you again man
so have
a good life

his retort followed:
that sounds like

what a woman says
to me after
a one night stand

I told him I
have better things
to do w/ my
time
& left it at that

so I could
go
home
& pour
hot mush down
my gut
& tell myself: it is
good food___.