a single dog
walking alone on a hot sidewalk of
summer
appears to have the power
of ten thousand gods.

why is this?

there is always somebody or something
waiting for you,
something stronger, more intelligent,
more evil, more kind, more durable,
something bigger, something better,
something worse, something with
eyes like the tiger, jaws like the shark,
something crazier than crazy,
saner than sane,
there is always something or somebody
waiting for you
as you put on your shoes
or as you sleep
or as you empty a garbage can
or pet your cat
or brush your teeth
or celebrate a holiday
there is always somebody or something
waiting for you.

keep this fully in mind
so that when it happens
you will be as ready as possible.

meanwhile, a good day to
you
if you are still there.
I think that I am---
I just burnt my fingers on
this
cigarette.

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and ****** and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

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.

Don't worry darling,
When I push you away,
I promise,
You won't feel a thing.

I'll be the one,
To burn in the fire,
The smoke,
Causing my eyes to sting.

I know it's for the better,
I'm a burden,
Don't you see?

I promise I won't blame you,

Who would want to be around me?

Sometimes he let his eyes rest on hers, it needn't have been painful,
but it strangely was.
He broke a lifetime of avoiding eye contact to show her.
She was worth overcoming obstacles for.

an angel came to see me in my dream one night
she wore dress of silk with wings so big and white
her halo shone so brightly and shone all around
everything was peaceful you couldnt hear a sound
she stayed there a while watching over me
it made me feel so tranquil and i felt so free
then she flapped her wings and flew out of sight
i wont forget my vision that i had that night

i’d sworn i’d forgotten you
but they asked about you
a week ago
and for the past 604,800 seconds
you’ve been in every
corner of my mind
all over again

S.W

i smoked a funny *** and saw a funny sight
i saw harry potter flying round the light
flying round in circles on his magic broom
he was having fun flying round my room
the i saw the wizard he was there  as well
with his magic potions casting up a spell
my vision it was long and it seem to last
by the time it went i had harry potters cast
when the *** wore off i was  white in deed
never smoked again on harry potter ****