these things.

these things you do
on the 4th of July
at an age
without thought...

things happen in front of
Madam Maria's...
(things happen
on the boardwalk
in Asbury Park...


...the police officer,
with a glee in his eye said

he was going to put
me in the cell with
Big Mortimor,

the happy tone in his voice
(and it worked.)
I was ******* myself,
serial killer
hit man for the mafia,
******... roommate...???

this isn't about me,
what brought me here
to the city yard ...

as it turns out,
it was Reverend Mortimer
from Our Lady of the Perpetual Motion.
the issue it seems was
the sisters.

the Sisters of Perpetual Motion,

for a $20 donation and up
a sister will love you.

more later, about the reverend, but back

to what brought me here
to a cell in the city yard
of Asbury Park.

as I reflect on what brought here
(vaguely)
to the city yard of Asbury Park

ah, fight.?

I had said to her,
your boyfriend,
"he's only over compensating
for his receeding hair line
and feelings of inadequacy,

ah, ah, a fight went down, I believe.
(I didn't know I had hit
the mayor.)

what more can I say
about my stay,

in the City of Asbury Park ?

the sisters???

that things happen
and you end up
in a cell
in the city yard
in Asbury Park
with a room without no view...

...oh, back to Reverend Mortimer. apparently

the. U.S Constitution,
NAACP, ACLU.

it was a religious issue. AND SO, FREE

the Reverend Mortimer threw a big party

with the Sisters of Our Lady

of Perpetual Motion!!!

ferocious beauty,
abandoned heart,
your blue green eyes
seemed like a window
to a fire

and so you thrilled me
like an old rusty bridge,
sweet things, and mountains.

we are what we are.
desperate, Darling,
fated like all living creatures.

if we didn't fear death,
how could we love

the wild flowers in the meadow,
coffee in the morning,
the joy in the smile of our children,
the warmth of our bodies touching.

you are the flower of the meadow

and I am the one to lie beside you
into endless tomorrows.

In the morning light
we gather at the square
voices mingling
plans unfolding
     .　.　.　 a tapestry of lives
undulating in the sun's rays

I had
my seven bridges road

watered potholes full of river water and muddy toads

Black moccasins . . .
poison pastors
in disguise

******* on frozen popsicled lies

I had my reasons
that made the tires spin . . .
under
the southern stars
and cotton candy skies

I had my moments of love's respite
while I rearranged
the letters to the questions why

No matter how
it mattered
it doesn't anymore





I once drove
over seven bridges
on muddy roads . . .
in fog and moonlight
but I will no more

no not for you anymore

There was a thunderstorm
In London the night the coroner called.

I flew to California to make sense of it all.

You were afraid of the high dive just the year before.

Last night spread your wings,  stepped off the ledge to soar.

You played with rocks as a child and prayed to them as an adult.

The ring you wore for protection,  Sorry it didn’t work.

But you will be forever young the way you did predict

And I’ll be haunted by the imagery of how you left

I will spread the dust of you in the places where you found some peace.

The hardest will be our elephant shaped tree. Where we played in the creek.

You believed what the demons told you. But I know the truth.
You were loved and my heart is broken. I will grow old without you