The hills at dusk
are calling
out to all
these evening lovelies.
Bring everything.
Your toes
and your tails.
Your books
and your new
pure, painted purple
fingernails.

The old, rotten dogs
hear it too.
A whistle
most crystal
bursting across
tables
and tulips
and Queen Elizabeth tea-time.
It calls to all:

Rise from
your planks.
Don't just beg
for bones
but give thanks.
You have
scarce a penny left
but Lincoln will forgive you
For wanting to be free.

The river stones are
in their places
and unabashed
to wash their faces.
they won't blink an eye
when it all
simply crashes.
Cuz all the water
touches
is but an old
free-form
freedom
metaphor
From the Mississippi
to the
Valley Floor.

And
these brave children
aint used to cryin'
cuz they have
it all.
Their eyes were only
red cuz
they let the Devil
Run.
Look around lucky ones.

Everyone out here
is gonna
Call it Quits
After
40 Days
And
40 Nights
40 Years
and
40 fits.
That garden is a danger
Where a beast
is sure
to
live.
Thank you Ma'am
for
rescue.
The first real gift to give.

Ever
Ever
Running wild
Break your necks
&
Breathe
Don't go up There
it's
Better Here
My
Blood
Is Finally
Clean.

There's a
black cat on the roof
and
a girl with
Coca-Cola skin.
One surely
is an omen for bad luck
& the other
is merely
a
cat.

Ol'
leafy Whiteaker
alive w/
death
& my reflection in the windows.
Alive w/
strange breeze &
all that is carried w/ it.

Curiosity is killing
everything
but somehow keeping
me alive.
Tossing and Turning on
the cold banks
of the
Willamette.

Ice water that
creeps into the
street & sweeps up
all
mystery
while children bellow
from beyond.

Indecency
is a weight
that they have yet to know.

They are wild
& sick w/ the
fresh evenings of the future.
Mondays &
Sundays
that you & I shall never
ever see.

For now,
All I have is the girl.
The
Black Cat
has long since fled.

Laughing.