Chicago Bed

I remember, lying in that bed
I had bought it for 40 dollars
from the guy who used to rent
that room.

It was the most comfortable bed
I have ever slept in
made love in
been sick in
cried in
I loved that bed.

     The bed I had before was a
     mattress I found on the curb.
     It had more lumps on it
     than mites.

     I could feel the age of that mattress
     when my skin became clammy
     with its skin.
     I wrapped it in plastic one day.
                                                      To keep it's skin on the inside.

     Plastic sheets at age 23
     seemed appropriate
     I got drunk and peed in my sleep
     dreaming of toilets. 
          I always woke up when
          He or Him or They
          would leave.
     Those plastic sheets,
     were louder than pots. 
     or pans.
     I do not miss that bed
     or the things I did in it. 

But I remember lying in that bed,
The one I bought for 40 dollars,
from the guy who used to rent,
that room.
He was an actor.
Before I moved in he threw a big party
to celibate the completion of his first
independent film, in which,
he was nude.

He was nude the first time I met him.
He was in the room, that would become my room,
I pulled away the sheets and curtains
that made our walls,
and hung from 50 feet above
from rafters.

"Hey," he said, sitting naked on the bed.
"You want this bed?" he asked.
"Forty bucks."

          I would often lye in that bed on cold nights
          and watch the rafters change colors,
          red
          green
          yellow
          red
          Chicago nights were many colors but mostly,
          red
          green
          yellow

There was a particularly cold night,
that I remember most.
It was 8 degrees and the blizzard
was gently ripping through our walls.
     That night,
     we wrapped the windows in plastic.
                                                       To keep the heat on the inside.

That night, I was watching the rafters
change colors,
wondering why there was a stuffed bunny,
next to a bicycle tire
next to hanging hooks
wedged in the bars of the ceiling.
     I got that feeling.
     But quickly ignored it,
     and imagined myself floating into the rafters.
     I heard heat rises, and it was so cold.
I sat up to finish my tea,
it was cold my then,
and I filled the mug with
the bottle of whiskey i kept
under my bed. 
     But then that feeling.

          It was more of a question
          than a feeling.

I looked up,
   
          green
          why do I,
          yellow
          feel
          red
          so fucking alone?

          I wrapped myself in blankets,
   
                                                            To keep myself on the inside.