When we sat under the Pine Tree
And we blew eyelashes and made wishes
I wished for you.

If you were a beautiful thought, I would hope you were conceived in my mind

If you were the most awe-inspiring work of art, I would wish to have been the artist

If you were the finest jewelry to ever exist, I would want you on me forever

Everything about you is beautiful

are you certain-sure
I’m not just some
figment
of your imagination--

a pleasant memory or two
grown large
over time
until the telling of it
becomes more legend
than fact?

I sometimes doubt
that I exist
at all.

good weather
is like
good women-
it doesn't always happen
and when it does
it doesn't
always last.
man is
more stable:
if he's bad
there's more chance
he'll stay that way,
or if he's good
he might hang
on,
but a woman
is changed
by
children
age
diet
conversation
***
the moon
the absence or
presence of sun
or good times.
a woman must be nursed
into subsistence
by love
where a man can become
stronger
by being hated.
I am drinking tonight in Spangler's Bar
and I remember the cows
I once painted in Art class
and they looked good
they looked better than anything
in here. I am drinking in Spangler's Bar
wondering which to love and which
to hate, but the rules are gone:
I love and hate only
myself-
they stand outside me
like an orange dropped from the table
and rolling away; it's what I've got to
decide:
**** myself or
love myself?
which is the treason?
where's the information
coming from?
books...like broken glass:
I wouldn't wipe my *** with 'em
yet, it's getting
darker, see?
(we drink here and speak to
each other and
seem knowing.)
buy the cow with the biggest
****
buy the cow with the biggest
****.
present arms.
the bartender slides me a beer
it runs down the bar
like an Olympic sprinter
and the pair of pliers that is my hand
stops it, lifts it,
golden **** of dull temptation,
I drink and
stand there
the weather bad for cows
but my brush is ready
to stroke up
the green grass straw eye
sadness takes me all over
and I drink the beer straight down
order a shot
fast
to give me the guts and the love to
go
on.
from "poems written before jumping out of an 8 story window" - 1966

Desire, desire, I'm burning up inside
Desire, desire, something stuck on my mind

The time has come to feed
Give to me what it is that I need

I'm bursting at the seams
Come, you belong to me
                  
You're just another thing that I require
Desire, desire

Control, control, the only clean, clear goal
Little puppet in my show, now I dictate which way to go

Pulled to the left, pushed to the right
Through the day and into the night

Now everything wrong is right
Come, move towards the light

Nearer now, we close the blind
I'll seal the sides and seize your precious mind

All my movements, passing ventures
Never learning life's true lessons

It rains.
A truffled scent
glitters
in dead leaves,
naked trees.
Transudation
into the depths
of the night.