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saw:

the adoration of the daddy,
as his red haired babes
leaned into
either side of him,
courtiers to a king
on the way to school this AM,
transfusing his magical super~fatherly,
by inhaling his special powers through
their nostrils, direct from his
broad and powerful brave-heart chest,
for use later in the wild jungle
of second grade
•••
an elderly gent whose walker rattled
with every lift and kerplunk on
the street~steppes of a dangerous city
for the brittle of bone and the easily dentable,
and the crowd that gathered round walking
at precisely the same pace he required
to make it across the widest boulevard
which was thirty seconds more than the
Dept. of Transportation's asinine calculations
and a miracle from Lourdes occurred -
not one horn honked in ire as the court
escorted their Long Live the King
safely across the street, as if
idiocy was like rain, against the law,
until after sunset as in Camelot

•••
an elegant germanic man,
in homburg and velvet collared overcoat,
taking care of sales and distribution of
newspapers and candy at the corner paper "stand"
while the elderly owner, whose partner~wife of
fifty years had recently passed, now had no one
but someone's pop whose was out
walking our cocker spaniel,
to tend the place while said candyman
obeyed nature's callings

and all his fans and friends who passed
on their way to the adjacent subway station,
exclaimed Erwin, Erwin what are you doing?
his twinkled crinkled eyes replied,
enjoying their puzzlement, laughingly saying
"making spare change"
•••
where I lived these little miracles occurred so frequently,
was told a story that the ministering angels
could not keep up with their duties,
complaining to the On High, who resoundingly loudly
commanded their silence! by reminding them that
all these, his creatures, were his own precious,
the reason for creation and why they were needed,
and the sum of all these small acts gave them their own
existential purpose, now angry at himself for loss of temper,
soft spoke as a parent and told them better,
hush my children, we have much to do!
•••
so now you impatiently need to know
why this scripture
came to be known as
$$$$$
for I was witness to all of this,
all on that day,
that was twenty fours hours long
across many hard hearted Hiroshima decades,
that made me
temporarily
the richest man in the world
a proud member of the collective of the false.
i read your poems, but i can't read you.
what's the point?

other boys, they call me pretty-
well,
sometimes they do.
but still,
other boys, they touch my hand,
they like my hair,
they think i'm funny.
but they're not you,
and that rips me up.

the boy who once said i'm not his type
doesn't think
you are good
for me.
but
he doesn't know you.
he doesn't know
your pretty
folded
inside out
folded
right side out,
folded
into the pit
of my stomach, giving me butterflies.
oh, my god, i think this is what love feels like
when you’re stuck on the rewind
of a cassette tape,
because the player
doesn’t auto-stop,
and you don't feel like getting up,
so the tape snaps or tangles or knots.
either way it can’t be the same ******* song,
it sounds too different to be.
warbled.

but the beat is the same.
it starts off slow then speeds up
as the eyes get bluer
and her cheeks get warmer.
tha. thump. tha. thump.
tha thump. tha thump.
thathumpthathumpthathump.

if you love me, baby, just say so.
because i’m so brand new,
i’m so full of darkness.
you’re so ruggedly smooth,
so full of lightning.
i’m so brand new,
that i can’t read you like your poems.
i’m so full of darkness,
that i can’t feel loved anymore.
but, baby, baby, bubby.
i could love you like a poem.

i’ll be the body electric.
(i love as hard as a whitman)
i’ll be the master, the dream, the fool.
(i love as illogically as a kipling)
i’ll be immortal.
(i’ll love as sweetly as a dickinson)
i’ll be everything
you’ve ever read about and wanted,
if you’d just come clean.

so if you love me
if you love me
come clean.
i don't know what i want from you, but love would do, i think. (but i also want to move the hell on because loving you hurts so much.)
You can’t be real
you hold me until we fall asleep
I just hold still
when I wake and you don’t
You call me baby,
and I never thought I’d like that much
But I think that maybe,
that might just be enough.
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