Everybody Leaves

everybody leaves


No one stays
Family and friends
Lovers and companions
Acquaintances in the park
Strangers on the train
Sinners and saints
They all go away
Leaving me alone
With my personal passenger
Telling me what to think
Inserting his will
I’ve spent so many hours
Trying to understand
What no longer matters
Because no one cares
When we jump the nest
Escape the chains of birth
Friends blow in the wind
Like fresh fallen leaves
Everybody leaves

Do you have to go
It’s much too soon
We barely blinked
Found a second
A floating bubble
One scene in my movie
An act in a play
Then it slipped away
I had once believed
We held the world in hand
Had every answer
Life bursting eternal
But love just comes
And then it goes
Runs away
With all the thrills
Tucked under it’s arm
We put our hearts out on our sleeves
Then everybody leaves


I tolerate life
In a world full of demons
Hoping to acquire
The true wisdom
Of an angel
So I meditate
In the shadow of my ego
Contemplating the evil
That makes me whole
When a voice speaks
Through my sanity
I deserve the punishment
I accept my penance
Surrounded by support
My amends are sincere
Offered in confession
A gift from my soul
Which my personal passenger
Most Happily receives
Once everybody leaves


Manhattan Was My Mistress



The moment I met her I was hooked
So alluring and seductive
Flashing her neon eyes
Singing her sirens lure
Behind an orchestra of chaos
She promised me a life
Reckless abandon
I pledged my heart
I would always stay
My Manhattan Mistress
Took my heart away
Howling like a hyena in heat
Her streets purr as though a moan
The ground beneath our feet
Rumbles and rocks us gently
She smiles from her throne
I beckon at her will
Noises fill every essence
Yet still she whispers my name
Inviting me inside her
That sweet seductive game
Lured by her voluptuous secrets
Inspired with her beautiful mysteries
Strolling moonlit avenues hand in hand
Disclosing sensual inquiries
Provoking my carnal beast
Entrancing me in her spell
My Manhattan Mistress
Loved me oh so well
She’s my concrete inamorata
Exchanging longing desires
Gyrating my internal fires
Chaotic Karmic spin
Two lust filled nocturnal silhouettes
Together dancing on a pin
But all good things they must come to an end
Packed up my emotions and moved away
Manhattan was my Mistress and
I miss her everyday

A July Fourth To Remember , A July Fourth To Forget

brass moon


J. T. Hilltop
I left my job as line cook at Windows On The World to become a working chef in a 40 seat restaurant in SoHo. I believed my career was on track now that I was the number one man atThe Smoking Moon Café, a quaint littlerestaurant in a very hip part of the city where happy customers sent back drinks or even the occasional joint to me in my kitchen domain.. A limited menu restaurant with a focus on specials, like eight entrees a night. My staff was one dishwasher, one waitress, one bartender, and me. But we all had the right attitude and abilities to make it a fully functional team.
Our clientele were mostly young hip professionals with an edgy style. It was an ultra cool place to work, the owner treated us like family, even when he wasn’t there when our shift was over he allowed us to lock up and have a few drinks at the bar before heading out. Whenever its really busy I bitch wishing for down time, and whenever there’s too much down time I bitch wishing for customers. Typical of foodservice workers. But on July 4th, 1986 I experienced the most excruciating downtime in existence followed by a near impossible power service. The city was alive with celebration, the streets packed with people in anticipation of the annual fireworks display. This year we celebrated the centennial of The Statue Of Liberty so the fireworks were on the West side that year. Being near the West Side ourselves lunch was crazy busy, I had to come in early to assist the lunch chef but by dinner just about everyone was out jockeying for a good spot to view the works. By seven o’clock we had had one single customer who only ordered a burger. The area was like a ghost town with everybody and their brother on West Side Highway. It was so slow Moss, the waitress, Eddie the dishwasher an I sat at the bar chatting with Stolie, our favorite bartender.
I mentioned that a customer who had requested a very hot meal had given me a bottle of Mt. Gay rum. I made some my patented dragon juice, assorted hot peppers stepped in sherry vinegar to an order of lamb couscous which I topped off with some harisa. When I came out to chat with him his face was covered in sweat but he loved the meal. He asked me if I like rum. Of course, who doesn’t so the next day he bought me a bottle of Mount Gay, his favorite, to say thanks. Before I knew it Stolie, Moss, and I were in a rum drink competition making each other rum drinks. Eddie didn’t compete but happily accepted the privilege of judging. My concoction was a combo of 151, Meyers, and Bacardi with a drop of every juice I could find then a splash of coke. Delicious and deadly. By 10:15 the four of us were toasted and still not a soul to serve, not even anyone passing by. Closing up in 45 minutes. We were laughing loudly when the door opened and a couple walked in. Shit! Now I am really buzzing and have to cook some dinners. As I half walked half stumbled back to the kitchen I hear Moss say, “Holy fuck!”
From the kitchen door I could hear the decibel level increase rapidly. It was like the floodgates opened allowing customers to come charging through the door. The fireworks were over and we were right smack dab in the middle of the path of hordes of happy hungry people leaving the highway extravaganza in search of a place to eat. Within ten minutes every table was full with a line of hungry revelers out the door. Half hour to closing time, but now closing time no longer existed.
Most restaurant people stay in the field working because we thrive on the pressure. All four of us were thriving our asses off. Moss handled the tables expertly, Stolie made the customers drinks and helped Moss by bussing. I really would need a new ass, thriving or otherwise if I didn’t cook it off I was certain to sweat it off. Eddie was promoted to assistant sous chef and he did a fantastic job. For the next two hours the four of us worked together half drunk on pressure, half drunk on rum. For me the best part of the crazy scene was after the last two tables had been seated, while things were semi calm, Moss came back to the range with her cocktail tray holding one large drink. “The happy customer on table seven wants to send a drink back for the chef so Stolie made you a JT Rum Special.”
I was literally drenched in sweat, rivulets of saline trailing from my temples. I was breathing hard because I had been cooking non stop even slapped myself hard and shook my head many times to try instant sober up, and Moss was standing there, also exhausted, but still smiling handing me a drink. “Are you fucking kidding me? A drink now?” Moss tilted her head, lifted her eyebrows, smiled at me shaking her head yes. All I could do was smile back, “That sounds about right.” I accepted the drink with a laugh, giving half to my newly promoted assistant. We didn’t have our usual close up drink that night, all of us wiped out, but we talked about our fourth of July experience for months after. Those were the days….PEACE

Corridor of Death



(Freestyle Post-Beat /Street Tempo Mix)
Bad memories like phantoms
Actors of my Divine Comedy
Circling the layers of Hell
Questioning my honesty
The corridor of the inferno
Hatred burns from every pore
The sound that I was fearing
My name whispered behind a door

Kick it……

Got a call from Satan but I kept him waitin’
Cuz I ain’t freighting for no demon hatin’
I’m going straight into a world where
My fate is anticipating my death
My last fucking breath the bottom of my depth
But it’s not your concern I’m in Dante’s inferno
A journey of no returnin’ and so much burnin’
I’m hurtin’

Facing down my demons always busy scheming
Without reason for the screaming and the streaming
About an agreement of redeeming my soul
That’s leaving without beaming to the lord
But I’m ignored because he’s bored
And until my faiths restored there’s no reward
But water boarding by the horned one
I’m being scorned on my way to Hell
Oh well

Slow it down now……
The waters of my River fill with blood
Bones styx and stones block my path
Deliver me to circles down the hall
The corridors of anger hate and wrath
Where I’m a dead man walking
Down Dante’s corridor of doom
Pays no attention to our good deeds
To him it’s just a room
Verily he grabs me by my hand
Motioning down the hall of gore
Showing me the path of destiny
My name now written on that door
Kick it one more time…….

Time to meet the great tormentor
At the epicenter the wraith dementer
Death the presenter of dissent or
Is this all just another fucking lie
Say come inside and learn to die
The truth you seek is one big lie
The god you praise is petrified
Been sacrificed on Mount Sinai
Come quantify your sacrifice
Showing me the path of destiny
The death that lay in front of me
My image in flames of effigy
Enemies scream in ecstasy
An ember is all that’s left of me
I’ve reached my life expectancy
Because I lack integrity
Failure is my legacy
Words will ring in eulogy
He tried so hard but couldn’t see

Abandon all hope all ye who enter
Too late be a repenter