that unhealed you
has run off again
to that valley of private hurt,
that old playground of embarrassments,
those back streets of behind your back slurs,
drained by that river of endless whispers,
so **** thick that hide boat,
that saved you and your sister,
that only patient love will dissolve the skin.

The carpenters want a raise
just to ***** the roof beams,
for whom do they toll
if not for their grapes of wrath,
for me it's mutiny on the bounty,
I'll see them all forty leagues under the sea,
oh, the good earth, the rising sun,
it's a leather stocking tale, Natty Bumppo,
It's a wonder Alice, a pure wonder!
Give me deliverance,
from the common crowd that implores me to
go tell it on the mountain,
with the weather up there,
i'd be gone with the wind
as sure i'm a hand full of dust.
a bride's maidenhead revisited,
no, native sun, never let me go,
for i am the power and the glory
of the ragtime rabbit run.

What's a billion years
when you have infinity on your hands,
anything is possible
regardless how remote the chance.
Yes, the monkeys locked in the room with typewriters
will correctly type word for word
the bible, the koran, or even this hen scratch.

muffler exhaust pipe,
post catalytic breath,
ten F 'n above.

Hungry eyes are servants to the mind,
and the mind a hollow belly to a caverned beast,
and the beast goat horns the shoulders,
forward, forward in arched knots,
vainly shielding the heart,
and the heart squeezing its tortured eardrums
so as to silence the wailed coveting, the coveting, the coveting...

I know this eating house
that's best when the day's light
is laid out like a stiff cadaver
and the night's barely old enough to drive.
The tables cringe beneath off white butcher's paper,
The private booths are dimmed in candle glow,
though I warn you the waiters come and go
speaking of recycled tangelos.
The wine is always worth a toast,
and the place is filled with pretty folks.
This bistro's fare is more than fair
so name the day and I'll take you there.

Being a man's man
I don't wear a locket,
but when I read your poems,
I sense I'm wearing your cameo heart.