your new beau sleeps
on the left side of the bed
and he has a smile like mercury, like moonlight:
it spills over you like a melody you just remembered
your mother used to sing when you were sleeping.

your new beau sings
(sometimes loudly, in the shower)
and he showers you with love like summer rain:
warm and soft and charming, like a teddy bear you find
that still smiles, buoyed by ghosts of your affection.

your new beau lights
cigarettes, your heart, the room
with the careless chaos-grace of a tornado:
sleek and bold and brilliant, so natural yet so strange
that you can't ever really catch your breath around him.

but there's another reason why
he will remind you of a storm
and there's a reason his bedside is the left;
he left me, he always leaves, and someday he'll leave you too
as the moon sets, the rain stops, the storm rests.

he'll leave you unmoored, and adrift, and confused
a ghost ship, alone in the blue,

he'll appear in your daydreams like the quickening wind
that asks of your sails: "where to?"

I've fallen out of love

I have taken the girdle from the place in the school
of the future, out of the door, in general,
of the daughters of the house, &, after all,
from the doctrine of the production of,
make use of the money;                              until the pit of sleep;
The lips of the things are of God,            who are natural animals
to be taken & destroyed, who had been sent were from the earth:
& unto them, alas, the frankincense which is the name
of the soul is a living thing, as if to fall; & shall rain it upon the whole heaven & her damsels,           Christ fled into the tree of life,
& a woman stripper is an invention,     it was only by means
of that which is even expressly said, that there has to be something out
of a pure girl olive-tree droppings,     & the stripper's snooch
hits every one who sees in the secret place of the tabernacle;
of the nature of dogs done for their gods gold, & silver,
but not of faith is the end of a pitcher of, or receive them in the future,
from the fact that the money of the people, the English, inflamed.
My grandfather was a door & took the girdle from the place the women of the future because it is born of the schools to teach w/ no money at home, although it makes use of the production of mining, while he is awake,
but the lips of God,   those deliver to fall away from what is more,
                                     in the land; What shall we do to you living;
You do not know how that can be redeemed girls were in the field,
that is to say to our senses only the music of God & divination
like the Philistines, & as far as the boys
          & girls voice of the prophet waves;
                                                      & I will rain the whole of the sky, the girl,
                                                      & escape to the tree of life,
                                                & every woman's inner stripper is to be found,
not so much by explicit statement,
than to be something of a pure girl an olive tree that stripper snooch
hit the whole to see the hidden nature of a dog, & also their gods of gold; money would become her jar, it takes its from him,  it is changed in time
to come but most of the English ***,
which is the faith of the end of the fire.
          This was the reason for the field,
you do not know what they are, that is,
                     our sense of the kinds of musical origin is from the gods alone
                                                   & he said, like the Philistines,
as far as from a child of the sky the tree of life of the woman,
the voice of the waves                  & the water is made by means of the feet
of the prophet,                               the whole cannot sleep
& at a stripper on the level of all times is no explicit statement it is;
The woman on the tree of the girl, who, upon the a watch-tower,
& it is hidden in the stripper snooch he was defeated;
But a doubt is for the most part; that the English people
are being led to the production of the yellow fingers,
it was permitted; nevertheless, the country understands,
in teaching, & was born into the game really uses his lips
to take free Sika; she has received from the lips of your country
& sold & effects to be seen as the entire nature of the two cases,
a dog, and further, that the Magi gods gold & silver;
which is the soul, & took the girdle from the place
where the surgery is the age of ours, in the girls,
who, they say: It is not a sound was heard in the history
of his young wife; I took the girdle from the place
of a daughter of a class from the door of the school
of the future's at home, however, makes use of the money,
the production of teaching;   be dug around until I awoke;
but the lips of God, which is to be taken, in the land
of those who have been sent from, oh, frankincense,
What is the name of a living soul, if to fall;
You really can not do in the grey girls in the field,        that is to say,
the means of the music  we make and those who practice divination
like the Philistines,           & that they do not merely become visible
to the voice of the young men, the prophet,
the waves & shall rain it upon the universe from heaven,
& her maidens walked that Christ fled every man to his tree of life,
& every woman of her stripper is an invention,
it was only by means of that which is even expressly said,
that that is something of a pure girl olive-tree dropping,
& the stripper snooch hit every one who sees in the secret place of the nature of the the dog made gods of gold  & silver will not be a pitcher
or take away from the fact that money is the end of faith in the future;
                                            English people fired.

I'm sorry
If I woke you up last night
My pen told me secrets in whispers
And I carved scars and tales
Of silly incantations and
old fallen trees
Of silver days in summer breeze
and tattered amber sundresses
Of apple bites and ripe grapes
near the broken glass on the carpet; they decayed
Ashes danced on my lips; sculpting poems on my skin
and flicking cigarette on my wounds
Smudged mascara and dulcet memories
Leather fabricated journals of vintage times
hiding crisp carcasses of yellow daises
Euphonious chortles and
early morning smiles
Forgotten tea leaves in the teapot
and ginger bread turning cold
Sun rays, like gold dust, sparkling in the air
Through the tall trees of a forest
hanging on the clouds in despair
First day of Spring, magical it is
like a caterpillar's fate
Silky cocoon, shiny chrysalis,
emerging out as a butterfly
Leaving as old and embracing the new
Igniting the sky over my purple roof

censored by HP

Thomas Edison invented the light bulb,
but he didn't invent Times Square; Hugh
Hefner invented the centerfold but not
the Internet; Walt Disney didn't invent
motion picture cartoons, but he ran w/ it;
Hell, Henry Ford didn't invent cars but u
would think that he invented car crashes
& exhaust; Van Gogh, Picasso, Pollack &
Basquiat didn't invent art; they broke it;
no one poet invented poetry; u wouldn't
know it from the way they go on about it;
have u ever heard a poet brag? it's kind of
pathetic; oh, they get signed to lucrative
contract occasionally; it's never enough;
ask Dylan Thomas & Wallace Stevens,
Bukowski & Eliot; poets have to pay rent
& prostitutes just like everybody else;
No, mankind has never really invented
anything; he's not even his own best idea

I'm becoming quite, quite addicted to sharing with all of you out there.  It's elating!  I thank you all for being there.
              Another Realization