1)
He's brilliant but he doesn't make a bit of sense
(what sense does that make?)
He empowers them, while I **** his
poisoned arrow,
when they face hell, he pulls them up
but I,
am an eagle down..
and I'm pigeon-toed
in his bigotry,
my feathers are tarred, I'm
under his elephant foot, choking
on his sloppy joe.

2)
I didn't know my own disposability
reality hit hard, I was
ignorant, there are no great people left
there is no way.
time... has passed... and
changed much like 'us',
now I'm up by New York
without a second thought of you.
chugchugchugchugchugchugchug
Is that dawn in the garage?
has she chipped all the paint?
I'll wait in Hoboken,
I'll wait by the telephone
cause someone has to pay,
I'm sorry to say,
it's not the great graffiti artists of New Jersey
or the rainbow-braided boy,
it's the nonrecyclables
and the flammable toys, wooden and headed
for the incinerator.

3)
Been here calling you,
calling you to come, calling you here,
I hope with all my being you can hear me calling...

(a day drunk with thinking goes by)
        

or
perhaps I wish you'd ignore my efforts
and make love to yourself,
have a good acid trip...

(a few good hours pass, until I look into their dilated eyes and remember my little 'crystal ball')



MAYBE if it were ALIVE, could i TRY and understand it!
What If I drink
from the lesbian's coke or use her chapstick?

I'm illiterate.

OH mama, how'd you fall off the shelf?
I thought I had you hanged, I could
build an igloo, with these walls,
and line it with leather OH
let it snow
and I shall play
in the sludge.


4)
Men, naked, smeared
excrement on their faces
***** insects crawl
at your toes
bloodied, yellow
moans, almost
instrumental
Fade   into the cement wall...
trembling cries, drooling into a pool
of *****, tears
and saliva
little words in weak screams
they were to live but to not be living,
I AWOKE
on my mother's oriental rug and wondered
with dust in my mouth,
why I'd fantasize such Disgust.
Why I saw men,
naked, smeared excrement on their faces
and their jaundiced feet
in puddles
of *****, though they're starving
and smelling,
smelling smell upon smell, of decaying bodies
of themselves
and sunlight would be a gift from
the prison-guard-god
dying to die like their brothers,
trying to ask why of the others,
why don't they have the answers,
caught up again, WHY
do i sleep at my mother's?