MILNER STREET

Amidst all the pot and cigarette smoke, during the drunken discussions of all things kickass, from Blues Brothers on our side to Willow on her, within the confines of your apartment, in-between the shelves of the most obscure anime trade paperbacks and Elmer Batters foot porn exposes, underneath a hazy moon and behind the beat of the first Jungle Brothers album, while a demo of an out-of-date Star Wars Gamecube game plays on the TV, she stands.  Because you are a brother from another mother to me, I hope desperately that this one is the one for you.  It’s so close that both you and I can taste it.  I don’t know if it’s that I’ve got your back or the fact that you’re in perfect form, making time like a madman and tossing the shit that make you uniquely you.  Whatever it is, I hope this is the girl that doesn’t break your heart.  I hope this is the one that doesn’t become the one we speak ill of a month from now.  I hope she’s finally the one that feels the same as you, regardless of your hatred for Willow.




-SLL