"don't let me disappear to the coast of oregon"

"don't let me disappear to the coast of oregon"
written in an airport lounge by jake kilroy.

don't let me disappear to the coast of oregon,
so that all i do is smoke myself dry,
drink myself soaked,
laugh myself stupid.

sip the wind like wine.
lay in grass beds.
write jokes on hands.
waste away in the world.

and come back to the city
to eat fried food i can't taste
in a nearly empty bar
listening to neil young
waiting for a friend,
recounting the mistakes i've made
and the people i made them for.

don't let me sink.
don't let me drift.
don't let me sail away,
because i know where i'd go.
and it's not here.
and i can't say that out loud.

so, if i could, for one night,
here and there,
between the gaps of gritted teeth
that make up the the grinning months of the calendar year,
allow me a party,
where i can taste neon lights like syrup
and play music too loud
and throw my things into the pacific.

before chain-smoking in freeway traffic
on my way to the airport,
to go home somewhere else.