Bus-riding, crumb-counting hand wringers
Bibble-babbler, channel-flipper slogan slingers
Keep the volume loud enough to drown out the machines
That fill their cupped hands daily with excrement and dreams
These are the ****** of the canon

Button-pushing, lever-pulling product users
Wife-buying, tax-paying alcohol abusers
Emasculated monkeys done up in black and white
Clock in in the morning and flock home late at night
These are the ****** of the canon

Train-conducting, ring-leading hand shakers
String-fingered, queue-cutting, man makers
Drive home, cursing, lonely, breaking bones beneath their wheels
Without the time to diagnose that emptiness they feel
These are the ****** of the canon

Flesh adventures in noon-lit meadows
Wrapped deep in the brushed embrace
Lips plant hushes on pale moaning skin
Coupled love locked up in soft asylum
Crushed together, lost, looking for more

Banana slugs and innocence
Wooden figs carved into decadence
Forgotten clearings now overgrown
With brambly memory and seeds long sewn
Another chapter, the page now turned
Only photos remind us of bridges burned
Set-down love poems can't be unmade
The ink may hollow but it never fades

All the poems have wolves in it* -- Jim Morrison

Man in bathtub with stony eyes
Water getting stiller in the cold, dead night
Hair long and soft as outstretched raven claws
Wilted fingers grip the lip with lifelike vigor
And then slip away

Naked wooden marionettes writhe
In dunes of ****** sawdust
Shedding skin like so much baggage
And baggage like so much skin
Cheese-grater screams on blank faces
Soon the forms are dust and then
The dust is gone

Inked fingers dipped in oft-repeated wisdoms
Picking little crippled words
And someone else's Lego bricks
Shine a light on the beautiful
Laugh at it
Sing to it
Grasp at it
Quit

And it's been fine,
But the pillow doesn't smile
When you kiss its cheek

Wrong wrong wrong
I'm so lonely
Echoes in the dark

White text on a white page
Lines that no one sees

On the dock in the dark
ON a lake in a park
Just yo uand me


Soma
Soma
Soma
Soma
Soma
Soma
Soma
I am the ******, and that is the truth
I am the ****** and that is the truth
Blain is a piain and that is the truth
(It doesn't matter what 's on the insside)

sSOMASOMASOOOMA
asdf
work, the pen crunches into the paper digging a hole into the desk the wood squeals the ink cries out the bblackness washes out in torrents
Crunching, crunching, crumbling, the pen just so many plastic splinters ground into the desk the black inik gushes out in torrents
I am a writer and that is the trueth
reach for the stars and that is the truth
You can never bbe free except within the cage
If you are free in the cage, then you can be free  anywhere
I am a poet and that is the truth
I am a poet and that is the truth
Have you imagined, the feeling of nearness? The darkness? The sighs?
Have you imagined? The feeling? the soooma, sweet soma rushing through your veins?
Tickle me, trip with me, trick me, break me
break me
break me
Break me so I can be free
Blain is a pain and that is the truth
Another hit, that'll tdo the trick, hit me hit me hit me, scooore
When you're strange, faces come out of the rain
ON a dock on a lake, in the heart of the jungle
When the far side of a mountain gobbled up wthe sun
How it gobbled up the sun
And we lay like lovers rocking irocking smoothly
While the mountains gobbled up the sun
Grooving
Bleeding across the sky, black and purple and blue, beat with bruises on the sky
Orange, then the LIGHT THERE WAS LIGHT AND IT WAS GOOD
I am good, and that is the truth

And we shared this moment like lovers, whispered in each others ears like the soft tickle of bats wings, or the delicate abraisinion of worn velvet
And you tickled my ear and I tickled thine
I am a knave and that is the truth
There are other worlds than these, and that is the truth
And you slipped the soma into my mouth and I slipped some into yours and we rode the dock on the lake by the mountains which gobbled up the sun
GNASHING with red teeth smiling GNSASHING and bashing up the sun

And we loved the stars under the covers on the dock

I am a dock and that is the truth

YOU AND ME in and eeeeeeeeendless blanket sea
That is the truth.
We watched the stars shoot the sky, and plucked them down and popped them in our mouths like soma
Oh, so romantic, with the soma stars in our eyes, fighting to get out
I am in a cage and that is the truth
Stillness, slownly, softly, dawn approches
The birds aren't yet awake
Even the sea sleeps
The hungry mountains are ssilent
TGod reached down and brushed aside the Washington clouds
Shook them out
and pulledHelios
In his golden cchariot
And my eyes, they saw you
Your face came out of the rain
Your eyes fluttered open in the maginifcencec
THThe golden glow upon your brow
The soft, soft warmth

ANd my rainy blanket sea revery was shattered
By the beating of the feet of the runner who was burning, screaming, waving, frenzied, flyind, fleeing, crying, screaming, truly screaming

The form sprinted from the shore, pitter patter, pitter patter, the bare feet burning, smacking on teh pine dock
Pitter patter
the flames ROARED
screaming
flailing
leaping into the air
tshe flung herself off the dock
into the water
went out with a hiss
That is the truth.
Soma.

I ask you, Ink Dreamer,
What did you write today?
Why won't you come out and play?
You sit at your desk
With your books and your pens
Lost deep in thought
And hidden away
Scribbling your stories
Day after day
Life will not wait
The world will go on
So why don't you put your quill away?
Why don't you come out and play?

I ask you, Ink Dreamer,
What did you dream last night?
When the world was asleep
And you turned out your light?
You lay there in bliss,
Freed by your mind
As your dreams
Taught your heart to take flight
Around you the world is dying
In the bedlam of chaos and spite
But you remain sleeping
Your heart gently weeping
And you dream your sweet dreams
Night after night
And you try to help others;
To give them the sight
You help them through stories
Through poems, and spells
But none of them listen
Too busy with life,
They wander on aimless,
Blind to their plight,
To your hopes and your dreams
And your glimpse of the light
Did you dream of the world
When you lay down last night?

So I beg you now, Dreamer,
As you sit there today,
Please write out your heart
Please write it away.

It's Friday night, I knock back five
Then stumble out to hit the club
I catch your eye looking for mine
Looking for a lover you don't have to love

A harried glance, we start the dance
With roaming, groaning hands
And sweat, and grit, and scripted friction
A masterclass of sham romance

But you're not you and I'm not me
And these red cups won't set us free
And I regret the way we met
As faceless strangers in a drunken sea

I wish it were morning
To watch the wind play in your hair
I wish it were morning
To see the sunlight in your stare
I wish it were morning
When I could tell you what I think
I wish it were morning
Without the help of all these drinks

The ***** on your breath, it smells like death
And your lips don't taste quite right
And your Levi jeans pressed up against me
Just aren't doing it tonight

The hiccup when you flirt, and the ***** on your shirt,
Match the beer-stains on your shoes
With your empty flask, and your haggard mask
I just can't stand the sight of you

And while I'd like to spend the night
And wake up warm between the covers
I tip my hat instead, and see you off to bed
Because poets are daytime lovers.