2/18/2015

I can taste you in the air now,
even though last lazy excuse
for you is long dead.

The rainy days seem to me a
small price to pay and I've
noticed in brilliant sun tundra winds

The potted lilies have started to grow again. I saw three leaves on a stem and
the sun seems to stay for tea.

In my newfound journalistic ventures in efforts to further understand my self, of course and the

Wiley depravities of people i think I now see that in the coldest winters
the brilliant sun alone was enough.

2/18/2015

it's the place reeking of Valentino
samples,
I got the date twice wrong today and
lou reed shouts while they pluck
their eyebrows by summer aquired mirrors in February,
two dollars at the yard sale
dig it?

"But she never lost her head
even when she was givin' head"
and she says,
Hey babe take a walk on the wild
side
the girl with the samples and her
Friends are all like:

"can I borrow a shirt?"
She plucks her eyebrow In a very
manner,
The manner being she calls strangers
Mister mister like an orphan
mister mister care to spare change? or maybe a party invite?

Long yellow rushes bending
above the white snow patches;
purple and gold ribbon
of the distant wood:
                       what an angle
you make with each other as
you lie there in contemplation.

2/17/2015

last Thursday, the snow came
down on Nassau street
and the ludlow alley
by the record shop

It came down in flurries
goosedown down on streets
where, in the spring,
students balance 12 packs

help us out!
And in the fall
they're not to be seen.

"Sir," I ask
stepping out from where
my friends drink flat whites
and chocolate lattes.

"Can I *** off you?"
i grab the Marlboro and walk away
It's funny how people suddenly
notice how cold it is outside

when you're out there alone.
"****, little lady
it is cold outside isn't it?"
and "aren't ya cold, girl?"

a David Bowie leaks out of the record
store when someone opens the door
to leave or go in ? I don't remember.

"yes, it is cold," I reply, ashing.
"aren't you outside too?"
"Well.." The men
have no business talking to me

of course.
"Do you have a ride home?"
"Goodbye," I twirl on the stomped cigarette

go back into the café
say hello to my friends
and watch the pedestrians

scurry out like weevils
in the goosedown, which
I can only see because of the
Orange lamplight.

Losing yourself to someone new,
Looking down over a dusty pew.
Only by the knowledge of slim to few,
While they wait lined up in a dingy cue.

An uprising in a whailing line,
At the exodus hoping things turn out fine.
The collection of vibration,
From a rastaman's creation.

The cap only seemed to fit,
While lazily working the night shift.
Crazy baldheaded men going to war,
Feeling possative vibrations on the way to the store.
Pleading someone "cry to me",
Because the rat race was to hard to see.
Johny was, Roots, rock and reggae,
Wanting more of the things on display.

Pimpers paradise seemed so long.
We and them singing reemption song.
Coming in from the cold after work
After the zion train with a subtle smirk.
Pulled the bad card,
Made things quite hard.

There in the road lay a free-minded crustacean.
Turned out to be no more than a wayward piece of insulation.

.
.
.

“Please allow me to introduce myself; I’m a man of wealth and taste”
Turned out to be no more than a man cleaning up basic waste

.
.
.

Good morning fool…
I said to myself.
Reaching for the uniform on the bottom shelf.
Spent a few minutes putting it on,
Insuring the curtains weren’t fully drawn.
Stood a minute posing before the glass…
A man bellow presented himself as a colossal ***
So I dropped a loogie just over the edge
Poor aim left it hanging from my window’s ledge
                              
                            ­  .
                              .
                             ­ .

The streets were swarmed with the innocently vain,
Looking for regal alleyways to make a social gain.
Marching through the “Slickers” campus,
Watching the bobbing of books holding tidbits on the hippocampus.
.
A new year comes.
The freshman student runs.
Princeton ushers in a new breed;
Teaching that blue is the only blood to bleed.

                                                         ­   .
                                                            ­.
                                                            .

­As I stumble towards the school,
Can’t help but feel I’ve been made to feel the fool.
Snickers jab at my waning pride.
Preppy children always seem so snide.
Overhear a remark mocking my attire,
Said by an ascot wearing boy filled with mire.
Left the path for ivy coated building.
An hour later, the day’s dwindling.

                                                     ­                                 .
                              ­                                                        .
       ­                                                                 ­              .


A teacher stands at the front of a classroom.
A man at the back sweeps with his broom.
The professor,
Proceeds with his lecture.
Spreading misconceptions on malformed events.
The man at the back cleans the covers on the vents.
There, a question is put toward the crowd.
The janitor in the back answers aloud.

                              .
                         ­     .
                              .

I shouldn’t have opened my ******* mouth!
Who cares if bigotry’s still relevant in the south?
People glare in mocking jest.
Blankness sits on the faces of the rest.
I’m only here to pick up the trash,
A job I use to make some extra cash.
They all have money for a proper education.
There’s no time for me, and my financial situation.

.
.
;

Null