Haptics

pasta fell on the ground 
harvest moon quartet knocked 
me down phantom sounds of water 
boiling can't tell what's real
gummy hit while riding 
bikes touched the tree it was 
the tallest one for miles and watched
some show about NYC's trash problem 
meanwhile conversing on the topic of 
soul haptics and ancient human civilization 
something about what the sanitation
worker said reminded me of Enoch 
but I've never had the lamps lit 
like this and maybe that shed some
light on a new perspective I keep
talking about getting a new ashtray 
but the one I've been using holds
so many memories from the ashes
of my friend's joints collecting their
belly laughs in the waxy dust that
just won't come off nostalgia 
etched into every flick oh I miss
getting flicked and licked and 
feasted upon Steven just doesn't 
hold me like the others
what's real is I'm bent over the counter
cooking pasta in the kitchen 
writing this down and I'm alone now
painting in my mind with wordy
strokes on a page I miss 
stroking a man