You're a burr in my saddle
a stone in my shoe
annoying rattle
driving to you
in my **** box car
held together with glue
to remove a spider
for my love of you.

1965 Drafted to fight the Viet Nam war
just a skinny pimple faced warrior to be
counted in the dead column of Generals
keeping score in their silly death games.

Capture my love, anger and fear.
   Scratch my frailty with your pen
   upon the bone white paper, My Dear.
   Draw me in ink honest once again.

I'm going to bed
to join the dead
for time it takes
dream mistakes
shake in sleep
soul to keep
wake in light
forget the night.

I saw God's spark set me in motion.
     Hell broke loose and molten metals
     exploded into a universe too big to
     imagine. Light begot light and suns
     were born. Globes crashed into globes
     stars blinked in night's black canvas.

Dresden

Oh, ****. Here comes my rage again.
I thought the drugs kept it at bay.
My shrink promised it would but
said we might have to adjust dosage
and we'd talk next week. It scares
me near to death. Loose wire in rain
snaking itself wild full of death.
My kids barely shake in fear but
they do and it just spikes the rage.
I love you! I'd never hurt you!
******* it to hell!I'd never bomb
your cities to infernos like Dresden.
I'll tuck you in at night and battle
monsters under your beds.
I'll take you fishing.
I'll fix your flat tires.
I'll never burn you alive
from a great height God like.

I strangle my devil
in the shower
to rob him
of his power
until I hear
her ***** line
smell her smell
my devil's rhyme
comes back to life
appetites rule
touch its own reward
drooling idiotic tool.

We planted our hearts
in our backyard doubt
waited for sacred water
all we got was drought.
Love is a quiet slaughter
never suicides shout.

Life's a carnival, a festival and
    a tragedy and comedy in one pie.
    It's a terrifying and wild roller coaster
    and that first time in the deep end
    when you thought you'd never find
    another breath but did. It is lost in
    time in the bumper car ride at Coney.
    It's kissing grandma's corpse goodbye.

As I drown let me be
   In the deep blue sea
   I follow the echo's waves
   through the coral caves
   sky and sea witness my death
   salt water steals my breath.

Desperate drowning lovers
I walk along reaching hands
like Christ across the water
boys are toys buried in sands.

How to move from here to there?
With our entire life in tiny boxes.
Million rocks to move somewhere
Sisyphus calls the Uhaul  bosses.

I love Pink Floyd
when I'm drunk
I love them when
dancing in the dark
in midnight Eden Park
I love them soft
and loud as hell
explosions of planes
lights burn the nights
I love Floyd's flights.

A glass of wine
  and I will sign
  on a dotted line
  free of me and mine
  no more empty threats
  morning's pained regrets
  always the unpaid debts
  just drunk and forgets.

I don't need another drop.
I'll stumble to bed tonight.
I hope I dream of you and
not her with the snake hair.

I love everyone.
Hate has no room here.
The world is full of sun.
Hide the hidden fear.

I didn't have much to eat at dinner.
  I had glasses of wine and sips of gin
  I was feeling tired, not drunk, mellow.
  I asked siblings about the Will again.

  Hell broke loose. You were spoiled.
  You were Dad's fave. Mom loved you most.
  The mood shifted from love to anger.
  I suggested, "I would love to fake a toast."

I chase truth like I
bark chase my tail
in the **** camps
air was so rare
I feel your pain
Thanks for service
humans destroyed
none unscathed
after the "Peace"
a million babies
of wars desperate
need for lovers
breathed carrion
drinking Tang
for Astronauts.

I'm drunk enough to drink
a toast to my own demise
no fear no time to think
death comes no surprise.

Nothing worse than a drunken poet.
  Scratching **** on a pad of paper
  hoping some alchemy will create
  Poems to be worthy of the greats.
  Mind numbly grabbing for every word;
  brilliant lines drowning in beer spills.
  Poetry spilling on the tiles as sacrilege.
  A nightcap will put this futility to bed.

I woke up and hated me
for what I called you in
my drunken truth. I never
want to hurt you but I do.
It seeps out in weakness.
I might quit drinking but
it might turn to cancer and
live within my blood and leak
from my blind eyes I'd turn to
dust. I'll have another glass.

I float above my host
one more drink heals
pain burns the most
that he no more feels.

Too much fools blood to drink
I made monsters to never think.
Mad as a hatter follow the hare
down the rabbit hole if you dare.
A tab of acid and Cheshire Cat
I married a 10 who turned to fat.
Rusted tin man and cowardly lion
Dorothy's world is finally dying.

Drunk Grandpa has a phone
and texts me concern
warns me of his mistakes
hopes that I can learn
where the mines are
buried I keep my legs
he means well I love him
he begs me to hope, pray.

Drunk love is magic
kinda true and tragic
born in a Dali womb
a melting clock tomb.

I love our weeping shame
the edge of suicide's game.
Closing time once again
last chance for mortal sin.
See you in the piano keys
haunting dreams please.

I'm a drunk poet with so much more to say
  but unable to tame the tornado of thoughts.
  All I can get is emotion, anger and pity, fear
  and anger, love and fear, a friend who kills me,
  a friend who bores me, a bore who ***** me, a
  stint in jail for shame as a provider, a stint
  in an asylum of my creation for abandoning my
  wife and two kids as I wander in the desert.

We write the brutal truths no one
wants to hear. We call a ***** a *****
and not a ******* shovel. This world
is both simple and complex. Some of
us will **** lovers who love others.
Some of us will find good in evil
and evil in good. We disagree.
Scream then whisper compromise.

He will write sonnets for you
dance on rooftops with a view
jet you to France for brunch
back home for a late lunch
time zones are just sun spots
witch's brews stirred in pots
money grows on money trees
never mind the doctor's fees
world famous drunken poet
reads promises he'll forget.
Love him as you need
just be ready to bleed.

He will write sonnets for you
dance on rooftops with a view
jet you to France for brunch
back home for a late lunch
time zones are just sun spots
witch's brews stirred in pots
money grows on money trees
never mind the doctor's fees
world famous drunken poet
reads promises he'll forget.
Love him as you need
just be ready to bleed.

We sit on our bar stools in afternoon.
The only light is neon. Night or day?
It's all the same in here with our
fellow drunks. We've no shame.
We circle death day to day.
We put quarters in the jukebox
grinning like scarecrows in
rhythm with the old tunes
stirring memories of love and
marriage and baby carriage.
We were decent men back then.
Good fathers and husbands and
bread winners, hard workers.
The coal mines paid good then.
The mines went dry and we died.
I touch the tears on my pint and
think of your tears when you left.
I remember your touch and hunger.

Don't blame a god
or praise a god
invented by me
and a few drunks
on bar stools on
sand in Jamaica.

We mean each and every word understood.
Fill in empty blanks with what should.
Wild minds on fire and doused with wine
our thoughts are sincere almost divine.

We are both in our cups
when we drunk connect
one calls one answers
the same numb correct.
We talk forever after
with echos of laughter.

I'm at a carnival midway.
My mouth's agog at the freaks.
Tents for 10 cents to see naked.
Lobster boy displays deformity.
Bearded lady drops her veil.
***** covers the cement floor.
The stench is bathroom overflow.
I try to wake from this nightmare.

Never text while driving
  and never text while drunk.
  Both can destroy lives. I
  love you in my cups but
  loathe me in the hangover
  having texted such truths.

The sky's so clear
  in the atmosphere
  stars perch on a tree
  caged birds set free
  my mind takes flight
  into the cold night
  when I just can't feel
  what's dream or real
  my dogs walk me home
I sleep and dream alone.

The sky's so clear
  in the atmosphere
  stars perch on a tree
  caged birds set free
  my mind takes flight
  into the cold night
  an old lover beckons
  naked in the street
  I'll chase her heat
  I saw her in a window
  her curly hair in a bow
  when I just can't feel
  what's dream or real
  my dogs walk me home.
  I still dream alone.

The sky's so clear
  in the atmosphere
  stars perch on a tree
  caged birds set free
  my mind takes flight
  into the cold night
  when I just can't feel
  what's dream or real
  my dogs walk me home
and I write this poem.

The sky's so clear
  in the atmosphere
  stars perch on a tree
  caged birds set free
  my mind takes flight
  into the cold night
  an old lover beckons
  naked in the street
  I'll chase her heat
  I saw her in a window
  her curly hair in a bow
  when I just can't feel
  what's dream or real
  my dogs walk me home
  I still dream alone.

You used to set my blood afire
      burning my guilt to the ground,
      a dry rain quenched the blaze.
      That's when my truth was found.
     Lovers always come and go.
      Fire and rain defined my heart.
      Angels steered me home to
      try fixing lives I've ripped apart.

Burn pictures and letters
  throw clothes in the trash
  delete her from life itself
  get ointment for that rash.
  Drink beer. Puke the bed
  forget the broken dreams
  focus on new starts instead.
  Nothing's as bad as it seems.

Burn pictures and letters
  throw clothes in the trash
  delete them from life itself
  get ointment for that rash.
  Drink gin to clear your head
  forget the broken dreams
  focus on new starts instead.
  Nothing's as bad as it seems.

My memory is less than it was before.
I can't remember my five wives names.
I can't forget thunder of  slamming door.
I will never heal my cruel inflicted pains.

I was empires once
now reduced to dust
cars were everywhere
now just orange rust
high majestic mountains
worn to infertile dirt
wind leaves parched pains
time demands hours of hurt.

I'm worried. I heard a crack
   in the universe last night.
   When too much weight is on
   humanity to always do right.
   Our team is losing this fight.
   It is a terrible fright tonight.

It was an antiseptic space. The doctor said
   something I couldn't quite hear because the
   clock over her right shoulder had a second
   hand that sounded like firecrackers each tick!

   I heard stage 4, in your blood, invading your
   entire body, maybe 3 months. The noise grew
   louder. Each tock became a bomb in a war zone.
   Deafening. PTSD. I was freezing and shaking.

   My girl just turned 2. Collateral damage.
   It wasn't my turn! What kind of god does this?
   I thanked my doctor for my death sentence
   and went home to live with my fading family.

My drunkard hand shook so much
I chipped the fine china teacup and
spilled the ******* tea on my despair.
I pulled the poem from my pocket
and gave it to my host as a gift.
He printed it in The New Yorker.

Dylan taught me how to write
poetry just like flying a kite.
If the wind is right it fly's itself.
No wind? Hike to a favorite pub.
Drink your mind to another time
when players are different and
you see us in a different light.
Don't go into the good night.

He stands behind the podium,
   grand and pigeon proud. Poet
   for the ages. Long dead but
   died young a poet of drunk
   appetites ******* with passion
   fitting a poet after all. Dylan,
   I'll die on your cross writing.
   I kneel at your grave weeping.
Your bones below are twisted
mocking your poses in life.