a couple times i've been too drunk
to appreciate anything
more than hugging a toilet bowl
and let me say the whisky no
matter how it's been aged tastes bad
in the wrong direction woman
and a love gone backwards cuts worse
than cheap scotch coming up again
yet i love those wasted evenings
even screaming stupid curses
and the sail boat runs and hot tubs
in the snow when no one knew the
future any more than we could
step up ladders to a distant star

supposing there's a group house or
mansions, cabins, possibly tents
I'm sure my dad would pass those up
for timber and a good toolbox
a Husqvarna° power saw
what we called chainsaws and a Skil°
saw, also known as power saw
down here where dinner's had at noon
myself in syncopating spurts,
small deaths & dancing verbs likewise
would choose to build some sheltering
of flesh transcribed, raw hewn with tools
inadequate to make a stand,
but you know what i mean again

Those nights when I lost consciousness
Embracing wayward women who
Would soon be somewhere else are blessed
Among the things I chose to do.
I don't repent my so-called sins,
The hours spent on wine stained sheets,
Long nights and mornings that transcend
Departures & ****** up defeats,
Still set  my tongue on paradise,
Yeah you got yours & I got mine,
& fools rush in right past the wise--
But oh how those dark evenings shine.
I'd go through hell and back again
To taste those lips, spring wide those shins.

The fat white man on the court square
Calls out at the white college girls
Who have joined the demonstrators
Gathered around Robert E. Lee,
Rock image of hero/traitor
While a black man passionately
Speaks of the need to move the stone
To a more appropriate place.
The elegance of the moment
Is shattered by the white man's words,
Born of fear but nevertheless
Shameful, emblematic, obscene.
These daughters of the commonwealth,
"You ******, n- loving ******."

stop measuring success by suicides,
imparting accidents with intentions
as if we had 2 choices to decide
or could on whim correct all convictions,
a double-edged word if there ever was one
my letters left unanswered w/yr prayers--
both treading water til dark evening's done,
with all its implications and affairs.
i couldn't be more honest if i tried,
while you, your dark and obfuscating eyes
come back with all the reasons you have lied
and i, of course, have given up surprise.
it doesn't matter lately who's on top.
your screaming has a most delightful stop.

when im thinking what i want to do next
wednesday, when i have enough pills put back
to make an honest effort at repeal
i remember all the suicidal
sick poets I keep reading every night
or listening in the case of  musicians
with a 6 pack & a 1/5 of whiskey
or whisky that won't last the night
good morning, or at least good day, i try
to remind myself--what the **** is that?
but anyhow, got some inspiration
from the sound of yr voice on the cell phone
come lie again beside me here my love
can't help recalling you fit like...
.