now dying uncle too joining ranks of gone
useless ***** has to contradict all I say
one step forward two steps back
why bother to keep disappointing
as they disappointed
done with this seven years empty fight
why tolerate thirty years more
flashbacks nightmares shame dread
ever lurking
perpetual loathing
no lovers left now too late
just empty death
far away from here

dead dying uncles in icu rooms unstable
little weak men old dried up not dried out
you ask i tell, nothing to see here but ashes
time rots everything
so what tell me is the point
of pitiful, joyless struggles
all our own small motives laid bare
so crass and primal the animals we are
mucking about ******* in the mud

sleepless nights now filled instead with
hopeful tears no longer overcome by fear
I want to give you biggest bear hug o life
dear friend you are to me honestly honesty
between us means the utmost to me
it is okay to be who I am
it is okay to be you my darling, honey
who you are is why I love you dearly
yr. too ******* frustrating cute little you
for all our idiosyncrasies make us whole
we can make it thru don't have to
die or burn out or fade away
there is hope, we can go on
our future exists we're living it

you were the type of girl to read Ayn Rand
thinking o what good ideas in this Fountain
I was the type of who'd join a tontine
and play Russian roulette with self
till dead from cop killer bullet to head
or encourage co-conspirators
bury me 6 feet deep

you decried what joy there is in order
I cried out swollen summer sadness
what joy (is there at any joy at all)
in this madness

pointing out the chaos of everything
order in chaos is wishful thinking
for apes liking everything in neat little
wax paper wrapped deli packages

your satisfaction is my dismay
yet I cannot look away
wash me clean after
I sully you suddenly with
sickly sullen pallid mess

a commune back home not hippie
buy 300, no 500 acres great land
in Codroy or misty high hilled Avalon
built great big house wraparound porch
beset by rocking chair by the sea yet
in the woods at end of road all brown dirt

growing gardens, herb and vegetable
pulling weeds but keeping good green ****
brewing beer by own hand
group work but not always group think

friends lovers writers growers givers
all come to stay
making great pots of stew and strange brews
awakening brought far from Peruvian Torch homeland
telling stories all somehow great fables and anecdotes for life and living and love and everything that's good in the long run

at night over bottles on beaches by fires
we worry these are funeral pyres
for our great little social experiment
fear of leaving loving womb
of isolated salt fish by sea commune

real world so crass&brash; an unctuous affair
where here instead guitars, ukes
silly screaming little buddhas recite poems
by gleaming eye fireside

sabotaging my own life
because somehow what happened to you
is my fault