I am bleeding myself every morning, sometimes quite aggressively.
My brain's become responsible for too much blood, you see,
My head gets clogged up, and
the blood—becomes responsible for all the naughty thoughts that drive me...
Oh My,
Sticky. If you ever got it on you.
My blood is white like the untouched snow out back, could be almost marble imitation, for all anyone knows, before the tracks have been put in.
Marvelous snow, beaming in on me.
To wake me.  
Harsh on my eyes the sun is, It and It's reflective partner maim me. For my idiocy in having kept my eyes shut through a morning such as this.
The glass doors are perhaps too kind in their admittance of the morning light; they must be early risers.
Oh My,
My blood is cold. That's why I stay, content, in bed with warmth.
I am, as it appears, too much a coward to ADMIT MYSELF into this air
to spite the sting of winter,
to drown in it, naked, and embrace it, the taste of it, like new lips—belonging to a thing more grand than any living creature to have graced me yet. And in that breath...
Oh My, what, oh what new secrets
shall I/might I/ unbury with my hands—if only set to dig in the right place, and for long enough.

But the lips of Earth can't ******* as well as I can.

NEW DAY—
   wake up.
Put your head in order.
Do not trust the inspiration just
go with it. Because
when it strikes it strikes hard and fast and
it ends with both sides panting— put your head in order.
   It's a good thing waking up early.
Shower off, then immediately after—
two cups of coffee. And a cigarette.
I hold my vices in a cup.
   Relapse into delirium; it's O.K.
—Quickly out the window to first
breathe in new day.
Snag the morning paper as an errand; locate self on this
wide spinning orb.
Locate self in the Material, then
locate your Center.
I have a CENTER.
All good feelings from the CENTER.
Bleed me. —Get my head together.
   Back inside to fireplace, and piles
upon piles
upon piles of
needless words, works and extra copies,
all to be delivered unto warmth—my fire.
Put the book down.
Do not obsess over self-image, or
Self involving propoganda.
   Accept the imminent dissatisfaction— I mean
really Accept that.
One more smoke,
****** thoughts—    Keep your head in order.

Get to know what wears you and describe it eloquently.
Lose all track of time just walking.
Walk more often.
Love your footsteps, each and every ******* one.
REMEMBER:
   Timing is a virtue.

I am inspired.
In the court room; waiting,
Feeling Well Groomed.
   I am in a state of psychological superiority. Everybody look at me.
separation from all avenues,
Or at least the current case.
I match the formal dress criteria almost well enough to blend in
with the wolves.
No.
I am the wolf,
They are the pigs.
There are drawings all over my three piece suit.
   I am the Zen master in the waiting room.
I play fruit ninja. My slices are precise and direct. I go for combos, and
I let my posture decide its own careless angle.
I remain a casual-clay reduction of societal judgement. Am I it innately? Am I somehow powerful?
One girl is so nervous that her knees buckle in front of the blonde judge, who looks as if she used to be beautiful.
When she makes her plea, her voice trembles. If she were in front of a firing squad, I think,
Not even that could make her seem more fragile.
When I step up I smile.
I don't think I was supposed to smile.
Littering charge, minimum fine: $20
She charged me $70
I left feeling totally enlightened.
And just a little *******.