and waiting and everything
in everyway, and everyday,
and everynight, waiting
seems
like a movie playing on an IMAX screen
and I'm the character in every scene,
and it all looks so plastic, oddly idyllic,
a situation drastic, I live in,
feeling like a dream,
nothing seems solid, no gravity,
just me
alone but with people doing their rounds,
the only thing missing
are the clowns.
that like to juggle in your dreams,
but the scream,
are not monsters or ghosts,
just real live old people,
dying in streams,
and every minute taking me away,
and leaving no trace
just me erased,
for all intents and
purposes.,
lonely, awaiting and cursed.

_
can't wait for it to be over soon

Anna's kiss hit harder,
than most ****** climaxes--
left me stuttering,
sidestepping, scared of the
what's next?

Anna's hair on fire,
billowing smoke and
beckoning me to come in--
left me boiling,
bracing, barely conscious
of what's left?

Anna's bed of nails,
bled out and breathing--
left me dangerously
dumb, deaf
of what's she saying?

Anna's sharpened heels,
daggered the docile beige carpet--
left me sweating,
sighing, searching for further savior
in what are we?

Anna's black fingernails,
sunk into my shoulder--
left me lonely,
lusting, lashing in empty parking lot
now knowing,
rebirth requires a death.

When sweet Sara gets to
Heaven to St. Peter
she will say,
not a **** thing,
only run her
tongue along her
full, glossy, ******* lips,
and snare his eyes
with her low-cut, cleavage
boasting blouse.

She'll get it.
*** always sells.

and you flow perpetually.
forsaken and lonely,
longing for a match.

a match to ignite,
a match to absolve,
a match to make you shine,
all pretty,
all light.

Why do old men cry?
it's such an unmanly act
so we've all been told

"Boys don't cry", they say
"You're acting like a female"
"**** up", "Be a man"

boys do become men
they till good and evil soil
coping in the world

through all walks of life
anxiety sprouts like wheat
must prove their manhood

learn to make their way
to take care of their own selves
and share with others

they raise families
quality time, joy, heartache
see their children grow

just like all people
all men experience loss
life's equalizer

they face rejection
lose their jobs and livelihood
they go off to war

they watch loved ones die
parents, wives, children and friends
no one is immune

but real men don't cry
providers and protectors
with stiff upper lip

why do old men cry?
it took a lifetime to learn
they're only human

The rapping and tapping,
the hitting and slapping,
sipping and slurping,

The munching and crunching,
the snacking and slacking,
hunching in a darkened room,

Facebook steals your youth.

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

Along the path of life
we love
i doubt it
If there ever was a lie
i told it
i doubt it
So why the pain?
you lived it
i doubt it
Until the end
you chose to ignore it
you doubted it