Everybody else I know,
my people from NYC,
sign off as the night gets deeper
and mean the while I’m acting the crazy caffeinated wired psycho bit
rambling incoherently bout who knows what and whatnot and shit
just to see if it’d freak em out, if they were close-minded redneck types
but it didn’t, they were cool
one of them, Cait, signed on at about 1 of the clock
the rest of the Texans started signing off
and the two of us got to talking bout the 60s
we expressed our desire to live during that wonderful period
and we spoke of the music, oh the music of
Led Zeppelin (his favorite) Jimi Hendrix (my favorite), who he didn’t like so much,
but that was negligible cuz we shared so many other favorites,
Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, The Doors, Fleetwood Mac, Credence Clearwater, The Who, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Cream, Pink Floyd,
the NYC underground (he didn’t like the Velvet Underground so much, but that was no problem, as he did dig Lou Reed and Nico)
and we even got into the folk music
with a Texan?
damn. didn’t know they were generally into that…
Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell (he didn’t like Charles Manson, but that is certainly understandable)
and out of nowhere, he mentions Ani DiFranco
Ani! oh shit! I had never expected to speak of Ani,
my favorite bitchin’ bisexual folk singer
with a Texan;
my homophobic hard-rock perception proved untrue,
as he had every single one of her CDs. beating me. damn.
Then he had to get to bed, so I asked, what time is it?
1:45 AM in texas. 3:45 AM here in NYC
and I was so wired
I wasn’t even tired.
And by now I was the only person still online.
I downed two more liters,
and then received an instant message from some up-and-coming porn star.
Thinking she wouldn’t be an exceptional conversationalist,
I retired.

postscript:
(it is now 4:45 AM. I am not sleepy. My gums are rotten. I’m alone.)