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my cat has woken up with a complex,
as they sometimes do,
he tells me there are monsters living behind the loo.
underneath the fridge a troll or buggedty boo.
he shows me how,
to walk very, very slowly
so they don't take note of you.
he warns me, that the sky above,
is full of a ghostly zoo
and that you must watch yourself,
as they are accurate with their poo.
finally he says to me,
i will stay by your side,
so that way,
when the cataclysm comes
and the pale horses ride
  - they will come for you,
giving me the time to run and hide.
i am sure the little beast has studied
Noh theatre. lol
I reached up into the top of the closet
and took out a pair of blue *******
and showed them to her and
asked "are these yours?"
and she looked and said,
"no, those belong to a dog."
she left after that and I haven't seen
her since. she's not at her place.
I keep going there, leaving notes stuck
into the door. I go back and the notes
are still there. I take the Maltese cross
cut it down from my car mirror, tie it
to her doorknob with a shoelace, leave
a book of poems.
when I go back the next night everything
is still there.
I keep searching the streets for that
blood-wine battleship she drives
with a weak battery, and the doors
hanging from broken hinges.
I drive around the streets
an inch away from weeping,
ashamed of my sentimentality and
possible love.
a confused old man driving in the rain
wondering where the good luck
went.
Did you ever hear about ******* Lil?
She lived in ******* town on ******* hill,
She had a ******* dog and a ******* cat,
They fought all night with a ******* rat.

She had ******* hair on her ******* head.
She had a ******* dress that was poppy red:
She wore a snowbird hat and sleigh-riding clothes,
On her coat she wore a crimson, ******* rose.

Big gold chariots on the Milky Way,
Snakes and elephants silver and gray.
Oh the ******* blues they make me sad,
Oh the ******* blues make me feel bad.

Lil went to a snow party one cold night,
And the way she sniffed was sure a fright.
There was Hophead Mag with ***** Slim,
Kankakee Liz and Yen Shee Jim.

There was Morphine Sue and the Poppy Face Kid,
Climbed up snow ladders and down they skid;
There was the Stepladder Kit, a good six feet,
And the Sleigh-riding Sister who were hard to beat.

Along in the morning about half past three
They were all lit up like a Christmas tree;
Lil got home and started for bed,
Took another sniff and it knocked her dead.

They laid her out in her ******* clothes:
She wore a snowbird hat with a crimson rose;
On her headstone you’ll find this refrain:
She died as she lived, sniffing *******
When
I was five years old
my grandfather
took me to
a pond
probably in New Jersey
but who really knows where
lost back there.
The sun was setting
the light was golden
with god rays
floating through the trees and clouds
reflected
in the water.
The fish were surfacing rising
jumping here and there.
Innocence peace perfection.

I was in awe of life
and
to young to know
what this moment would become.

The beacon
the lighthouse
on the edge
calling me
showing me
the way home.

As exaggeration
has set in
with aging and pain
the moment became
the symbol
in my dreams
trying to make it back
to that
New Jersey pond
and
depending on
the state of my life and mind
in my dreams
I
would see it over there
sometimes
hanging in the air
in distorted images
of
cold wicked docks
sitting on
dry desert lands.

No water
no grandfather
no peace
alone
in exposed
and vulnerable landscapes
and
sometimes the water
was just over there
But
I was lost
in rooms which had no doors
and eyes that had no windows.

Standing on an island
surrounded by water
but
no setting sun
no rising fish
no grandfather to hold me up
on that island
spinning.

The beacon calls
I have always been moving
towards
that
perfect moment
with the sun setting
the fish rising
my grandfather holding my hand
a piece of peace
forever the end of my path.
How am I
supposed
to live for
something
when I die
five times
a day?

This repeating
image of
sanity
will drive me
     mad.
"A coward dies a thousand deaths."
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