By A Foreigner

I like Americans.
They are so unlike Canadians.
They do not take their policemen seriously.
They come to Montreal to drink.
Not to criticize.
They claim they won the war.
But they know at heart that they didn't.
They have such respect for Englishmen.
They like to live abroad.
They do not brag about how they take baths.
But they take them.
Their teeth are so good.
And they wear B.V.D.'s all the year round.
I wish they didn't brag about it.
They have the second best navy in the world.
But they never mention it.
They would like to have Henry Ford for president.
But they will not elect him.
They saw through Bill Bryan.
They have gotten tired of Billy Sunday.
Their men have such funny hair cuts.
They are hard to **** in on Europe.
They have been there once.
They produced Barney Google, Mutt and Jeff.
And Jiggs.
They do not hang lady murderers.
They put them in vaudeville.
They read the Saturday Evening Post
And believe in Santa Claus.
When they make money
They make a lot of money.
They are fine people.

Pain and payment saturate me
Beyond the better disbelief of this
Leave my body on the pavement

Pray this degradations done separating
Whispers heard through closed doors
Leave me in a blatant panic attack, panting

Your head on my chest, i think of us
Keeps me warm so wont you write soon?
all i asked of the guardian angels

She said you will be a much better author than I, I smiled and said
I know you will be fine

I didnt want to see her like that
After she taught me to live
They probably played her favorite music
I probably would have cried
Its too late to hug her goodbye
But i say it almost every day
Ive already said it once
And sang with some angels
I wasn't there at the funeral
But i will always be there

I keep making plans to disappear
Sometimes they become a part of me
Something that i might not understand
Why do i want to become that man-?
Forced with decisions second hand
Of course what it takes to go to France
Release a virus , or impeach the hands.
What it would take to be that be that and
Not be the same person that i always am
Wake up one day to me gone  and sigh
****

Those days are gone
With the dark wind
Clouds larger than sky
Those dreams are here

Tolerant to the cold
Doing this by choice
All to be forgotten
For ever more forever

Bathing in love/ your idea of it
Focused ******* that steady change
Just my size of box - a stepping point
Floating off from the rocks , open cove
There was always- something , cope.
/Paint me a picture/under fresh pine
way under the woody black faded from this green of desolate trees
Ship rock down the shore forgotten
Your plot of wood and cliff / faded from view as every day is now
Our newpine friend jutting out of rock / fifty meters from the seahouse
Something maybe in your tone- bubbles of soap- darkly the ocean
Salt water kisses and something about conquering fear or dread
One of the consequent
Black and white swirls
Has me laying around
All these messages left
Im on my way out
Afraid of burning bridges
And open water

He said normal things wernt working
What makes those other colors perfect
Work with me/dont try and force it
I am a brakeless vehicle slowing/
coasting

Open up the windows let the ocean in
Rain falls from such great heights
You fell from the bed , into the light
Do they even consider you still alive
The morhpine , is it working ?