Everyone I've known
   fades into a lie.
   We're all children
   'til the day we die.
   Let's dance close
   let's be wicked.
   Take a chance
   be a bit addicted
   reduced to threads
   inside our heads
   above our beds
   torn to shreds

We choked on our stock's ashes.
1929. The crash. We lost it all.
nothing left to bear my burden.
nothing left to sing my praise.
my body aches. my soul despairs.
Forget friends. Never mind prayers.
The only warmth a stranger's "Hello".
I doubt innocence. What does he want?
I'll sleep on benches and city grates
and wipe my *** with 20 dollar bills.
I'll walk the stairs for the first time
to the top of my building and perch
and gaze upon the city that betrayed
me and step into death's cool flight.

I exist inside a vast space of your heart
called Love I see no end, barely a start
that will let me watch stars in our night
you blind me while I stare in your light.
I remember your smell and your heat
as you gently push me down to eat.

Bette Mann doesn't exist.
The world's a lesser place
without her fierce resist.
We will never replace.

Lightning flashed that night
frequent like a strobe light
an old time silent movie
we loved quiet and free.

It doesn't move at a constant click.
School clocks barely tick or tock,
while my lover's clocks blaze by.
Time is of the essence if your dying,
doctors might be on a 15 minute break.
Time respects nothing.
Death can come any time.
There's no time for kids
or wives or parents
or lovers after time.

It's a burden being a poet.
   Eating the pain of others
   sparing suffering ****
   for sisters and brothers.