its so what if i hate you
i still want you to take care
out of all fake love brought us
i just miss the way you stare
at me like you think ill stare back
now its impossible for you to do that
its hardest when i breathe out
all of the air from my lungs
while clinging to the bottom
of this lake trying hard to die from
either this pressure or whatever
this death brings first to measure
how much water i can keep in my lungs
its brought me nothing now
holding onto love like life
its so simple living now
life like the steady breeze
i am coming out of the water
a new man for living now
they said i can choose
anywhere i want to haunt
but i chose the same spot
where i used to kiss you
when i would walk you home
now every visitor that we get
gets this strange feeling
that i never had. of not being alone.

babe i didnt dance for reckoning.
i chanted for it and with my brethren
at the time: hand in hand on the hill

tasting carnal lust for the first night
we kissed to romance andto redwine
smoking out of the finest  rosemary and most potent tyne
i wish i could dream of my new love
because i found a brand new rose
and i got her good like the gods
they thought i deserve it i would
**** it up on the first time it came
to town because my baby well
she dont want me right now.
i just dream of you or less scary things maybe a funeral for two.
she says i scare her well just as well
i only have seven years
to live and die on this planet of hell

4 when i go to heaven. 777
i aint taking any angels with me
and its just as well   666

but imagine one could save me
an unstoppable redemption
i appreciate beauty in grandeur
divinity but yet i am banned in heaven - life is subliminal
i could be a blade for these seven
years maybe even for the Lord himself
would sin be outweighed by all of that death  
and that when i sit in purgatory
waiting to meet my makers
i got the chance to fill out an application
just like for one of my regular day jobs
it said apply to do it all over again
there would be only happiness
guilt free or worries negativities
and sorries. well BabyGirl i wouldnt
i would only start anew
and be different than you saw me
depending on how i saw you
from your video tape
depending on the look on your face
the nights i held you in our firey embrace
and determine if that was just
****

Star spangledgraciousness
An empty vessel
Yet not without its redwine
Red wine
& sourness of past inhabitants
The fog of Manhattan
Cries the whale of night
In a street of slurred bodies
& electrical heads &the; train is late &excusemepleasesorrythankyou;
& directionless/compliancy is for the agents who don't know rhythm i can speak the tongue of a sweatfaced
Painterman or
The kindly blind
Who haven't the time for soreness

Its all soupNmute screamin!!!g

"Ur dryer has been faulty /
The showerhead makes cruel sounds!"

My Beltbuckle healthier than
Leather!of my shoe (a horn from up the block)

Rosesmile lovely faces
Being uplifted by balloons &
Kissing hymns

(RedwineRED wine)

Impolite barter
Or 75 cents in Metro
Paused for Rodenticide

(green neon coffin)
Coughing neon green

(!!)


HERE is a wailingCannonBall
Creating a space of drums
And dancing or microphoneAAA

Golden cloud & dripping halo
Words cannot hurt these saintly scenes
of a
Light caught in the rain
As mist rises u p
From my fleecy walk
& protest sirens orchestrate
SUNSET tape
/X and O/
               Do not mind the slipping
               Metal
               Or poorly-tended meadows coming up thru
               Hairlines
               ////////////###
      Transmutable
      Grains to cigarette ash
      Rolling daintly upon the marblefloor
      I have seen scholarly tearjerkers
      Preach about the elevator
      Blinking the signal of the soul
      Holy(soul)
      And potplant lids
      Fantasizing of Mothers
      To shoeshine their world
      A (         eniwder

"hellonothankyou"
    "AfterallthistroubleIwentThrough!"­)
Note of
Myself put into the hardwood of

The blunder
Of thought itself

For a fool beneath a bridge to find
& smoke with aching feetNplastic
teeth
Speaking plastic musings to

The plastic of the falsely opposed
Withdrawn
And unable to prove why this country hates them so much

(which begs the question)
Candles keep to the museum of headaches & irony

I keep to this narrow night under the
Attic of West 3rd

Wishing for a place to rest easy
Except these foreigners slam their

Quiet fists to the map of New York City instead
AhOkLetsBePatientPuh-Leese

This sort of passion for
The stone and it's
many
Bulbous radiant
fingers
While simultaneously
Brushing them away with nervous laughter
Can only be caused by

Spending too much time at the beach
Reading playwrights.