Lakeshore Drive ft. Sara Khayat & A Tribute to HoldenLyric

One year ago Wednesday, I received a comment from a WordPress user named HoldenLyric. I believe her first words to me were something flattering, and we started talking in the comments before moving to Facebook. Some fifty-odd weeks later, I hold her in the highest regard as a writer and friend. She is exceptionally talented, and joined me for our first collaboration in late February, “Waking Up in Strange Places.

In fact, we wrote so much material for that poem, it spawned a second part called “Familiar Fixations” only days later using stanzas that didn’t make the cut. Our follow-up, “California“, debuted in my second anthology Ground Zero, which released in May of 2013.

Before the year was out, we would collaborate on three more poems; “In Kush We Trust“, “Semi-True Stories Pt. III” and “Bad Language“, as well as one more for Paper Plane Pilots called “The Name of the Game”.

As I have begun to branch out in 2014 and work with other poets, she remains the first person I turn to for her opinion on my work, and my primary collaborator. Therefore, I am pleased to debut our first co-written poem for 2014, “Lakeshore Drive”.


Tonight we
went to
this frat
party on Lakeshore,

pre-meds were
inside co-eds, future
lawyers downstairs
filming porn.

They had no taste in music;
too much techno has
loosened my respect for
undergraduate choruses of
terrible radio rock and

blonde girls grinding
up against
the guys
they all covet
but we all
know will never

A little muscle and
vodka on
the rocks goes
a ways apparently.

(Jesus Christ
It’s only
Wednesday night.)

The blue smoke
itches my eyes-

I’ve gotten a
second hand
high just
stepping through
the front door.

Kegs in the kitchen,
white lines in
the bathroom, bongs on
the balcony,

values salute you.

Fight breaks out in the gallery amid arguments about the calorie content of someone’s mother. Off-duty neighbourhood watch stops by to chauffeur under-ages home.

The evacuation of
emancipated youth draws a clairvoyant
line across this crowded room.

And there she was,
living lust in this
clusterfuck of drunks.

She had a tattoo etched
down her neckline
of a dragon
spitting fire- the whole
nine yards of
something to
aspire to.

Her head turned toward
the door, sipping

Trojan horse
lady, mother of
all maydays, holy
Hades in
a hueless dress.

Kamikaze girl
armed with
nothing less than
a killer kiss.

I knew the night was
fenced-in if
I didn’t get
her attention.

Fuck that
predetermined bullshit, I’m
going home with
you tonight.

So I made my way over to
her and pretended I
recognized her from
someplace I’ve never been but
seen pictures of from
in-flight magazines.

“Oh no,” she said, “you must
be mistaken I wouldn’t be caught
dead in a place like that.”

Her face blushed,
an inferno burning
my insides

with every eye-batting
lash and hurricane sigh.

2 thoughts on “Lakeshore Drive ft. Sara Khayat & A Tribute to HoldenLyric

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