on a windy fall day

rain can be beautiful

"Liston caught Patterson with the right
and Floyd kept trying to get up
trying to get up
off the canvas
and that's something

beautiful
terrible
free

if you have,
HEART

and i'm shooting to turn in
one
last
great performance
knocked to the canvas
i'm trying to get up

i'm going to punch a hole through the moon
through nightmares and rust
through days shorten
like streets that have no street signs

through memories of you
in that yellow dress
dancing in the lightening, rain and thunder

it takes Heart
to ask to be forgiven

the radio was playing softly
and the space between your 2 front teeth
and your crooked little smile

and then I was holding you
in my arms
delicate and soft and tender
and i'm stealing quarters from the wishing well

what was the name of that song, anyway?"


"Rain Can Be Beautiful," she says.

I.

she lives in one of the crummy rooms
down the hall
in the building
where the rats run and tumble
through its terrible walls
like children at play

she has intimate conversations

with saints
and pigeons
and the daffodils in the park
and the rats in the walls
and late at night
with her dead daughter

her boots echo down the hall
she's going to clean the gutters of trash
and feed the cats
I watch from my window
the cats come running from the abandoned church
hundreds come running
the kids call her cat queen
i call her savior

II.


I still hear those boot steps
when the air turns cold
and lakes freeze
and her ghost tells me
people die the way they live
and through the looking glass
down the rabbit hole
we'll all go


III.


there in this concrete
in that crummy room
was the thief that hunts my dreams

but you were something gentle and kind
a brightness in the projects

a caring heart
a loving soul
in this city where there were few

sunrise on the river
a million stars
2 fishing poles
and my brother

in the kitchen
on a shelf a digital clock
5 baby doll heads on one side
and 5 baby doll heads
on the other

the digital clock is blinking zeros

a can of Schaefer in his right hand
a cigar stub
in the other
he s plants dead flowers
In his garden
tills the soil searching
for his forgotten prayers

his grey eyes
narrow slits bright as steel
his crooked dreams clutch night

he knows no other way

he stands in the fire
he knows no other way

a lonely rider lost in a glass of yesterday's

the digital clock is blinking zeros

"after 6 beers," says crazy george,
"she's not gonna be looking any better."

                      *       **

Oh, woman!
wounded spirit
of moonlight and broken glass

Oh, fiery night
Oh, heat
raging, dazzling light

the wild place
till the red morning light

till the red morning light

hold me tenderly
hold me with those gentle eyes

hold me in your arms
far from shadows
where the nightingale sings

till the red, morning,  light.

unchained spirit

simple beauty

a flower

(as it was meant to be)

28 dollars
got him one to life  

the revolution was at hand
he was going to be free

george lived
like an outlaw
in the land
where he was born

Be prepared to be shot down


George Lester Jackson
lived like an outlaw


George was going to be free