I came home to find that the
Oven had been left on
And only the burnt crust of the brownies
Had been left uneaten and
Poor Jose had gone to bed drunk
Before nine

I opened Jose's bottle of red wine
Because it was owed to me
And I saved all our lives by turning off
The oven and I sat at my computer watching videos
And thought of how Charles Bukowski's voice
Reminded me of the Disney version of the Jungle Book
Low and soothing and liquid
That you couldn't ever grab hold of
But lived in your memory
And the wine made memory sweet

Poor Jose drinks and his memory
Hits him like a stingray
Sliding just beneath the wet sand
His life is twisting and turning upwards
Towards some horrible nesting spot
And It's just like how sometimes
The cat's mewing seems deafening and
The more pleasant someone is the more you
Wanna pull out their eyelashes
And the cream colored paint on the walls
Is moments away from driving you mad
And with all that **** dully hurricaning around
Who's got time to turn off the oven?