All Fucked Up
2002-02-14 02:59:26 (UTC)

Stewed, Screwed and Tattooed: It Happened On A Moonlit Night

His name was Jesus. He was stout, muscular, w/dark
sunkissed skin and a wet, enormous mouth that curved upward
w/a strange shimmer. I’d met him at the Santa Monica Pier
one night, sitting on a bench lapped against the beach. The
ocean scented the air w/seaweed, coconut sunblock, tanker
fuel. A group of Hare Krishnas chanted softly in the
distance, belting out their lingering mantra. Soon enough,
Jesus and myself had gotten to talking, then walking arm
and arm up the Third Street Promenade, laughing at things
that weren’t even funny, ambling toward his second-floor
apartment off Bay Street

We were lying together in bed, grasping eachother tight in
an attempt to fuse our tired decadence. “Man, you’re
sweet,” he said to me, pulling me closer to his bronze
tattooed chest. I smiled back at him, “Yeah, whatever.” We
continued doing the wild thang. It occured to me that I’d
leave early in the morning after a quick Coor’s Lite and
plunge into the ocean. I’d never see Jesus again, a true
pauchuco kinsmen transplanted from the Mexican sun-- but
it was possible, I believed, to enjoy a stranger’s company,
to be the slightest bit in love, even if it was only for
kicks and good fix

A sultry Santa Ana stirred the sand outside the window. The
phosphorent light on a fully rigged clipper on the moonlit
sea flittered through the slats of the jalousies. I knew
we’d never be permanent lovers, but I didn’t give a
fuck, as there was nothing sad about this. “Think about
it,” I said afterwards, latching my hands behind my head,
exposing a suntanned torso in all it’s rawness. I gazed up
at the splintered ceiling, hallucinating visions of God
w/in the cracks and pressed my head deeper into the down
pillow. He brought a fuckin’ Goddamned bag of Mission
tortilla chips to our matressed haven on the bare floor. “I
can tell everybody I slept w/Jesus Christ, son of God.” He
winced. “Watch your mouth,” he muttered through the
delicate white covers, spilling over w/inifite grains of
sand. But then...he smiled again, rolled over, and made
fierce love to me over....and over