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

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

I feel nothing
As my eyes wince, looks at bubbles
Of green and blue
Sent and received
So easily a message
I should have never seen

And maybe
I would stay ignorant to the idea
And we would progress years on
A cover up of last nights mistakes
Or months ago of mistakes
That were meant to be relayed
But that song on the disc never played

So sorry
I feel trembles of fingertips
The urge to touch but never own
Something I couldn’t have but I gave
A heart that easily could heal
Except for when I invested it all to you
It is not something I’ve been through

How long
Could this sense of lacking
Asking if you’re alright
Tell me whats wrong
What is going on
And were all those excuses an additional matter
To the problem at hand
Or had that bird over oceans never reached sand

Clean start
The slate may have been erased if tried
But nevertheless people have seen it
Drawn written scratched and erased
The sense of my comfort
That happiness will never come back
Remember it, for what is it that I lack

And I will never see someone else
Aside from that person who caused me such unease
Not even pain, just doubt
And that ever creasing forehead of contemplation
Will never know
And I need answers to the things you no longer see
And it will hurt my heart for years upon knowing you
And this headache of mine will only cease a few drinks in
And this bed will never make itself again
And just like a bird who has never touched ground
And just like the chalkboard will scratches of past mistakes
And just as I’m begging please
There is no release.

I cannot help but stare when I see you
I cannot stare and hope that one day you will invest
In me as much as I do in you
I cannot hope but wish that you will notice how I cannot
Stop talking about you
When you're not there
To myself alone
I cannot stop talking but I keep my chest tied shut
In the awaking hours that you see how cut up it is in there
I cannot keep myself standing but only do to prevent you from a fall
One that I don’t think you can handle
And I will cradle your needs even when
Mine feels like a heavy brick
Already sitting upon
An asthmatic chest
I cannot breathe from the dust covering the bed we used to live in
But I do.

Seven
Stay lucky, get lucky, feel lucky
Seven has been just the opposite for me
Still a beating reminder of required change

Even when time has paused itself in your presence
Eternally, the seconds tick in my mind with
Endearing memories and happiness that felt like our
Endeavors would be infinite

Verifiably distraught with knowledge of the
Vacancy that soon would destroy both of our
Vessels that held hearts, hands, and futures we in-
Vested in each other so certain, so real

Either the number or the letters within held
Experiments with the chance of the game or our
Eyes could not see what exactly was in our hands
Eradicated the problem to reveal truth

Never had the trail felt continually
Narrow, the unraveling rope formed
Nooses in the number that haunts me, he
Nurtures the time, while I stay standing

Seven months since you left me.