i walked through you and found myself at the counter
and I bought some lottery tickets and wedges of foam.
i came up with my own dialect and stammered.
i saw an osprey in a rook... having a nightmare
in the middle of the day.

and i watched.

the smoke rising off the snow
like the wet breath of hot jewels.
is draped over the dead.
i have no joy where the happy is done.
and all the pilots blotch the tarmac
having crashed into
chrysanthemums.

i am Yorktown and Springhill.
a swathe of feral and ironworks
on a bleached stone
in a pit.
i collude with the sun
and cavort with the moon's sisters.
swelling my coffers with blood
spilled on a Living
Thing.

and i forget.

I like my coffee black
I like my liquor clear
I like my women green
And my truck so blue
I like my lakes that way too
I like little white lies
Brown boots with chartreuse ties
I like redheads
And yellow cake
with cream frosting
And my oranges orange
and tangerine dreams
I like purple mouthtains
Full of silver majesty
As a golden sun goes down .
And girls in pink
That wink

this pin in the inkblot
has my name, but your features.
i reach behind me to sing
and the noise that gathers
has no voice, other than
Sirens, breathing.
we lurch to the advance.
but we cascade to the low point
of why I love you....
then sink below -
Why, You might Love me ?
if you take into account
how many words
were spoken....

then you account
for the silence between
Prayers...

and the
Love we
choke
on ?

till we burst...


II

i was one of those things that had no hands.
then I loved " someone " and the moving dart
of rain came down to the center of my drooling loss-
where the heart of my campaign...
still had your name... and a headful of steam
for the Doldrums and the Illness
of loving completely.  

III

Tomorrow is no curse
if I am finding you
at last
like a blind search.
the first thing
a revelation
that Life is
Real -and not
rehearsed

IV

and the next - thing
a simple clarity
that  we
Are.

as you seek from a dream
that you ****. ~ to sustain
the very wants
that you
Will.

but you won't.
but you
want.

it's all in the gnomes on your lawn
that draws me baby
not your curves
not those curls on your naked shoulder
or your poems
not the way you slide up to me
like some kind of fine woman
just those gnomes
I like your gnomes
baby

You must be into thorns.
you are riddled with spines
that ***** the ghost skin
and you move like a storm
of black needles and your voice'
has all the eyes of a blind mute
quoting sonnets made of grief.
you are a least a ton of roses
long stem.
lousy with spikes
and utterly
green.

two of them
to my naked, simian eye
are identical twins

though one, a mere millennium
of light years away, performs its
magical fusion yet today

the other disappeared before
dinosaurs devolved; its phantom
photons now without a source

but both poke pinholes
in the blanket of night, gifting
what some call divine light

not I, for if gods were igniting
those gaseous masses, they would both
yet be furious and fiery white

and not tricking my meager sight,
deceiving me into believing, there is
eternity in an eternally dying sky

wandering in the west wonderland of the east
coast of  psychedelia along the northern coast
of a southern island
I came to  the perception
of me as a scorpion
tail held high prancing venomously
striking the hand  that fed me
along the willowing trails of honey nectar
the rainbow sailing sailboats in sun
colors glistening
the breathing cloud skies of blue gold
right next to a godlike creature sat I
tail up telling tales
with poison assed consequences,
making promises like a politician
was a bad trip then , until,
I saw  bodhisattva sipping brandy and being just him
along side a unicorn on a hill
outside Hollywood
I took his hand
his discipline his calm
his realm now mine. He gratefully shared.
Now this was my kind of dude.
I waited around and he melted away
and ten vestile virgins appeared in his wake.
Each more beautiful than I can say.
And we ate strawberries and flew in the sky wingless
partied on shortcake and cream and I was happy once.
A beautiful dream a memorable trip.
It opened my eyes. My senses cleansed.
I  try to live just like that.
Imaging Nirvana again, every day

she has that lightning
might be clinging to your shoes
and you high step back
to her frightening moods
as they swing from the chandeliers
in your hell
where the light was always false
but the girl
can't tell.

get A Life, and you get hurt
like All The Other
Toys.
get some sleep, and it's worst
than All The Other
Joys.
'Cause the Nightmares keep You -
nailed to Your Loss.
and what's gone is gone.
but you burn
and you
burn

till you're lost...

why do blackbirds
leave so many brown droppings
on my white mailbox, riveted
to a red painted post, planted
in green Bermuda grass, by
a gray asphalt road, under
a baby blue eye sky

just a pinch of summer now; a little angry on the snow.
and every morn is warmer still
melting in stealth... wreathed in sunshine
and all possible people.

the rim of the night
now listing starboard in twilight....
throwing mist over the shoulder
of your Albatross.
Naked as the Day is long
where the shadows fail
and if you leap
the sky
falls -

to greet you.