Your name
is every piece
of headline
on every tabloid:

****,
car crash,
champagne,
******—

*You are the beautiful
blooming disaster
that I want to witness.

I finally knew what you taste like—a certain liquor and acid mixed.

After the last pour of ***** that I
licked along the cup,
wasted are the nights
and I still wonder how
your lips are, like if it’s
soft and numb enough.

Waiting till midnight had made me
own what’s left in that bottle as you were
now caught dead along the bar stool—
dead from all the laughter and alcohol
elicited in your throat, like
rough rocks spilled along your stomach.

Hummed the winds are songs that made you fall asleep—
overly sang by the empty stereo,
waning along the caves of our ears.

Sour notes all around us, like
overtaking cars screeching, like
faintly noise we cannot stop becoming like
turmoil in the air.

You cannot bear anymore to stand and go
outside and drive; your soul is too much
under the hum of broken lullabies,
rotting along the night as it stepped one second further.

Lifeless as you were, my eyes rove around
inviting lights, and I’m about to
pass out as well—
sleep is just one kiss away from the cup of *****.

After this night,
righteousness will step in and we’ll ask
each other, of what miracles happened that night.

In the ancient darkness of that  rock chamber,
bats hung upside down like unrecollected memories,
startled by his footsteps flew scattering around, coming alive,
the Precambrian rocks, smelling his presence, but still without  recognition,
wordlessly  asked, "Who are you intruder, troubling our millennial sleep?"
In his  mind he heard  his words echo,"Sister dear,don't you remember?
we came from the same mother- earth- then a molten mass,
she gave us birth, then wind, waves and water separated us in our  Precambrian childhood,
you still are in your slumber, secluded from all, happily oblivious,
your journey still in the beginning, at a different pace"
**The elements took me to a pilgrimage,I took avatars one after other,
I am swimming towards light, at last,I believe,
rippling through the darkness all-round

I'm not a great man,
But,
I've been here and there, and I've learned a lot.
Like how not to get shot,
And where to buy ***.
I've bent every misdemeanor law,
Some would call me a libertarian,
I say democracy is a farce,
Keep your vote, and leave me out of it.
Most of what I know is useless idiosyncratic observation.
For instance,
I know how many days it takes to hide 73 pipes, and other miscellaneous paraphernalia.


My father was raised in the depression,
He refused to let us throw anything out,
And we had a chest of drawers, full of old junk.
Watches without bands, and any piece of scrap paper,
That had free space on it. Last years receipt, dry cleaning tickets, etcetera...
And,
Subsequently,
It rubbed off on me,
And I hate throwing anything out.
I don't buy new stuff, until the old stuff goes bust.
I had a 10 pound Toshiba satellite, for 8 years,
Until the plug jack came loose, and I fried the sucker.

So when my doctor told me I had to quit smoking...
Everything,
I had forty plus years of accumulated paraphernalia.
I gave a pipe, to friends who were interested,
But it wasn't enough.

I hear you saying it now,
"You irresponsible old lunatic!"
And you're right, but I look at it a little different.
You might call it promoting lawlessness,
I say a law that is obsolete should be repealed.
Walk down the street, you'll see the dime bags,
and blunt wrappers everywhere.
No need to promote something that will happen anyway.

Teens will smoke, so I hid a bunch near high schools.
Up at Rutgers, I hid one in ten different buildings,
A few outside of the police station, and the courthouse,
And one in the bushes of my ****** neighbor.
Any place I could think of, I hid a pipe.
Rebellion be ******, I did it because I felt good,
Like a simple *******,
A stolen cherry, in the supermarket.

Sowhatsthepoint?

Crime isn't cool kiddies,
But, as long as you steer clear of felonious activity,
They won't send you to real **** ****** jail.
Even your grandma, probably jaywalks from time to time.
Oh if you stumble on one of my pipe hiding spots,
Don't touch it until your old enough.

You don’t have to be subtle, your intentions are clear, there’s no need to smile in front of me. Just take your place at my back, my dear, where you can twist the knives more efficiently.

The Pleiades and Orion, at the wedding
Of the sun and the moon, were worthy witnesses,
Like the snow that's robed in a white dress--
The suit with frost and flakes of ice made,
While the hail was in a nice garment clad
Laced with stones and was seated beside
The storm benign gazing, smiling with soft pride.
The rain, standing tall in the choir loft, adown
Was pouring rhythmic sounds in its falling gown,
Singing hallelujah chorus sweet accompanied by
The blazing thunder's rare grand piano nigh,
Making the clouds in its fair multi-coloured
The mode about to waltz; the dew was honoured
The good grace to say at solemnization ending.
And having man and wife become, the happy pair
Were by the Lord blessed with numerous stars fair.

He sat there, head bowed, back bent and silent. His tail still and tucked away, unmoving, to show he wasn’t violent. I called him toward the kennel door, to sniff at the back of my hand, and then rubbed his scruffy head as a bond was formed between a dog and a man. He was *****, he was frightened, and I was sure he was covered with fleas, but his big brown eyes with unshed tears were crying in a silent “please.” As I rubbed his ears he wagged his tail, unnoticeable at first, but hope began to grow in him like the nagging of a quiet thirst. I had papers to sign before we left behind those walls of brick and plaster, but I understood I didn’t choose; it was the dog that chose his master. That day I saved a dog from death, he became my friend for many years, all for a little food, some bones, and some loving rubs behind the ears.

In a golden goblet, I was offered
the last drop of honey, tasting bitter;
*a wave of sweetness, rushed to engulf,
from the seething sea of memories.