Until the fizz runs out

 The crack of the guarana can opening
Whoosh fizz whish and it enters the glass bubbling upward
Fizzing back down until there are only a few glass-hugging bubbles 
Waiting their turn to to float upward following the rest

To flow upward toward the surface and leave the drink flatter
With no bite and less flavor
Yes the extraverts leaving the party on cue
"To get air" They say, or "See a friend"

The essential flavor lingers still though
The guarana lolly like sweetness ricochets 
between tongue and cheek
carbonation died down before the glass has emptied

The owner of the school

 The school owner's all important whims
The huge block building holding over a two thousand students

he prounced as uncle noone ate icecream
The poor dressed up as the rich
bearded and dribbling

The true owner eccentric
picky and fussy
Just as I was

And if the roles were reversed
Could I tone it down?

I think not
The fancy sense of disregard for everything

Seems like a flavor on its own

Roadie-dom and the crawlspace

 The crawl space
The band is playing on the other side
Pop band quite narrow brained but rather wide
everyone knows them except those cynical

The popularity is incredible
And everybody wants to be a part
So duck under the entrance ease into the panic
slide yourself between the floor and the granite

Where things stick just force it
pressed and bruised to fit
Like an item of ironed clothing
then get up on the other side

Jump once for joy
Clap to celebrate and revel
And join the rabble
Ignore the discomfort

Opiate sneeze
Look back at the crawl space
Your entry's unease
Wormy fall from grace

Living life was theirs

 I bought it for twenty thousand
Drove it for about an hour

The first problem was the steering wheel cover fell apart
And only the steel underneath remained

I kept driving changing gear, avoiding accidents
The road demanded all of my attention

The people talking around me distracted me
I thought I might crash from running off the road

Instead I drove down the road I was told there would be a mechanic on
But there was nothing down there just an abandoned farm

Years felt like seconds I got back into the van and yelled we need to get out of here
So each person got back into the beat up old minivan

I turned the key and gave a little juice
The fuel cable burst
There was oil leaking directly into the car

One of the uncles went to get help
While the rest of us stood on the side of the street where the lichee grow

He came back with an ice cream in his hand
I swore I could have murdered him right there and then

The minivan was as good as irrepairable
The money I spent stuck like a huge stinking shit on top of my head

The cavalier attitude of the family and friends bothered me to no end
The responsibility was mine, living life was theirs

The fever dream

 The revs blare on the soft highway
Years have passed

Much ashphalt under rubber
the wheel wells the seats

The endless surface
the smell of gas

the fever dream
Colors of another life interrupting

Imposing themselves into this one
Over the road inside the vehicle

The decade of the seventies gripping onto the eighties
A tiny grain of sugar atop the upholstery

Sparkling out to the child in the neighboring car
Unable to identify it

A dog's rug

 The dog Ribbons sucked the rug
His rug to be precise
He slobbered it 
Bit it and almost ingested it

Then he turned back to me
Like pay attention here you negligent owner
He bites again licks and licks
Slobbers 

This dog got the restless
the ghost fleas
The ripples and rapids of a dog dream
he turned back to me

feed me
talk to me
Mr Ribbons chewed the rugged
Then in succession fell asleep

Looking back on the eye

 Those eyes that look back
Those eyes that feel judged
On a body too big for its application
In an urgency not indicative of its nature

Eyes that look back
and at the last moment look away in fear
Fear of being seen through, evaluated and ridiculed
The pain inside the eye...                                         white hot, the iris scalding, pupil eternal

Those eyes that feel the weight of the observer
That absorbs the outward energies flung like impulive reactions
Sparks that land on the membrane of the turning blind eye