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

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.

To fake a smile
To make things seem worth while
To force a laugh
To blend with the riffraff
To act so tough
To bluff
To be carefree
To seem happy
To motivate
To hold on and wait
To fight
To shed some light
To put on a mask
To remove the casque
To keep this act going
To keep on moving
To hold back the tears
To face the fears
To leap
To dive deep
To wander
To let things squander
To get lost
To prevent an emotional exhaust
To put aside the memories that we shared
To add more words
To keep acting like a third


ARE ALL SO EASY

Than...

To accept
And
To forget...

That you and I
USED to be a *we

His blackish hair
His deep eyes with that devilish stare
That crazy smile that I can't forget
This empty feeling knowing he would never care

A person I can't seem to ignore
A guy that made me sore
That happy fellow that no one could possibly despise
And the only reason behind my sighs...

I know the little things that make him laugh
I know how he looks when his day was rough
I know when he's just acting all tough
And I know that I'm not the one he'll love

To him I am probably invisible
Someone replaceable and dispensable
But for me...
He's the only one I ever see

I notice every tiny detail that he is
Those little things that make me feel like this
If only he fell for my smile like I did for his
Then everything would be in a state of bliss

He's the reason I wrote this, my inspiration
To think it all started when he smiled at my direction
And ever since that instance
I started *loving him from a distance

Walking along a straight paved path
Underneath the autumn trees
As the amber leaves began to fall
I recalled when I first felt this breeze

Glancing upon the orange dyed sky
I got reminded of what has been
Memories of you and I
Which are better left forgotten and unseen

I continued strolling...
Not knowing where I might wander off
Then I saw an old tire swing
Where the melody of love first begun to sing

I went to the picnic grove
Where we had our first lunch
Remember how we watched the afternoon turn to nigh?
We were in so much trouble, but it felt so right

Remember our mahogany tree?
The one that's all alone but looks so happy
Do you remember what you told me?
You promised that I'm the girl you'll marry

Yes, we were young, childish and silly
But I kind of took it seriously
We were kids and eventually grew up
I thought what we had was more than enough

Like our love the paved path didn't go on forever
I reached the end where our dreams withered
Strolling, the last stop I made
Was at the garden of lilies where all the promises had fade

I journey back on the path...
The path we used to walk on together
It felt a lot colder
And somewhat warmer

To cut it short, we didn't walk forever
We realized in the end we were on different roads
Now that my flashback is over
I walk the same path again with a new hand to hold

I'd love you every far, every moment, every night
I'd love you even if the sun doesn't shine
If love you even more, every time the moon passes by
I'd love you as much as the stars in the sky
I'd love you when you're up
I'd love you when you're down
If love to wild away that frown
I'd love you when you're far
I'd love you when you're near
I'm not leaving so there's no room for fear
I'd love to hold your hand
I'd love to take your time
I'd love to be the one
I'd love to call you mine


*If only you were mine...