lily wipes away a tear
time is fear and we can do nought
one day later and closer
to nought..

maybe we are similar
over her toast and coffee
when i refer to myself
as a n-

i mean someone put
down (by society)
as artists sometimes are..
nothing to do with colour..

like van gogh and all the rest..
mailer in the sixties coined the phrase
a white n-
to be clear..

ii

everything is open to mis-interpretation
some can not say money
some may not say anything..

honey is honey
anyway you see
lily wipes a tear away..

he was a poets poet
worked through the night
a bottle of gran dad

to wagner or bach..
and ate twinkies or lived
on them..he had a ******* period..

hated poetry..opened for rock
bands..writes like a god
in sentences so clear and simple..

a day at the races?he is the man
o yes-watching an obese family party
he is the one..

but his love poems are so fine
i mean who the hell is tom jones?
he asks,and we say,rather him..

police helicopters circle as
his girlfriends wrestle on the lawn
in his boxershorts..

who´s father was a sadist
and mother was a sadist
who made it..

so what might come
poe looks out the dusty window
at the sun

if he knows he is not telling
i read post office yesterday
i find bukowski just too funny..

and he tells of gg s breakdown
o god-and wondered about our brain
my father was in the post office..

will we find our raison d´etre-
perhaps not to suffer pain or inflict it
but to love each other..

she says, when i am out of my
mind
i am more in it-do you understand?
sadly,i do..

man,can not do
why..
too much reality..
i don´t know..

within life there is death
a prospect so fearful
so we dance..

creation is a gift
that is it-all nerve end´s
go where?

poe looks thoughtful
too much sugar-
but if it can be so powerful

on a whim-finished-
with that..
what is in our minds..