I'm sleepy
But not sleeping
Faithless
But not cheating
Wandering
But not lost
Paying
But not the cost
Happy
But not glad
Crying
But not sad
Distant
But not far
Dishonest
But not a liar
Wishing
But not hopeful
Praying
But not soulful
Raging
But not mad
Evil
But not bad
With you
But still so alone
In my room
But so far from home

I'm a paradox
Wrapped in straight talk

Stuff your mouth with your hollow promises
my gentle liar
conquered my elusive heart as I did yours
yet you
left me to drown in waiting
let me go
your death by my hands
hands you once held
covered in your blood or mine
sullen skies
kneel before your grave wearing scarlet drenched in tears
let the earth cover my bones
your bones
heartless cage
wither to dust you'll never hold

Subtle, clever brain, wiser than I am,
by what devious means do you contrive
to remian idle?  Teach me, O master.

Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow!
It is not a color.
It is summer!
It is the wind on a willow,
the lap of waves, the shadow
under a bush, a bird, a bluebird,
three herons, a dead hawk
rotting on a pole—
Clear yellow!
It is a piece of blue paper
in the grass or a threecluster of
green walnuts swaying, children
playing croquet or one boy
fishing, a man
swinging his pink fists
as he walks—
It is ladysthumb, forget-me-nots
in the ditch, moss under
the ****** of the carrail, the
wavy lines in split rock, a
great oaktree—
It is a disinclination to be
five red petals or a rose, it is
a cluster of birdsbreast flowers
on a red stem six feet high,
four open yellow petals
above sepals curled
backward into reverse spikes—
Tufts of purple grass spot the
green meadow and clouds the sky.

Winter is icummen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
and how the wind doth ramm,
        Sing: Goddamm.
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
        **** you, sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, ’tis why I am, Goddamm,
        So ‘gainst the winter’s balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm,

Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.

As cool as the pale wet leaves
                of lily-of-the-valley
She lay beside me in the dawn.

In this world
we walk on the roof of hell,
gazing at flowers.

The young doctor is dancing with happiness
in the sparkling wind, alone
at the prow of the ferry!  He notices
the curdy barnacles and broken ice crusts
left at the slip’s base by the low tide
and thinks of summer and green
shell-crusted ledges among
                                     the emerald eel-grass!