Useless
Useless
Useless at the moment that changes
you know, the comfort, fortified state set
solid, being not right is not possible,
in the comfort zone,
under the turban that marks the wedom
of the war fighting class, called of Wisdom
to comfort the feeble minded,
offering hope
in song and story told
to hold what you call precious,
use the price to measure contained
worth. Is the song the value, or the tune?
What is the use worth, if words change things?

Words worth thinking to the emergent first
blurted line,
left brain stored comparison of constancy,

April, not the cruelest month,
but a named child result,
from a moment
one July. Freckles on creamy skin
under wild ***** hair.

I saw her like, her spirit and image,
in the Welfare Office
on First Street,
in El Cajon.
Freckled creamy skin wrinkled
deep laugh lines,
under wild ***** hair, there she was
from another bubble, but there
she was.
Not April, but she was
so like such models
of wombed men seem,
potentially overpowering
royal we user, we became friends,

but the April I knew grew old elsewhere.

Woman, thy nastiness to me
Is like old Nikes on the floor
Where sweat and mildew disagree
And force me to the nearest door
A stench I can't ignore.

Your heart weighs less than styrofoam,
Thy stinking feet, thy scowling face,
Belong in some state nursing home . . .
Free me up some breathing space,
You mean-hair clipped-face gnome.

Lo, in yon dark recliner-chair
How meatloaf-like I see thee slump,
Upon your wide immobile ****,
Ah! Harpie of the greasy hair
Unholy Frump!

Here
On
Measured
Eternities