the wind was a ruffle in the curtains
and the day went by, unseized

the world was a ricochet in a chamber
and the gunshot bedroom leapt out, inept

the women weep out neglected, knowing
*** is of no value in our promiscuous world

a cigarette is like a god in the skies
the expectation is lofty and leaves us sad

the earth turns me dizzy
my arches have fallen
and the trojan horses have all fled off, torn

each child is abandoned in time and they all
**** their parents with resent, cuckkoos are poets
when they push all the little birdies out the nest

each poet is a cuckoo liar, inflating any kind of truth they've found
in the dotting of their stinking socks.

               

                   a beard is a false billboard
   a wife is a lie that germinates s l o w  a dog is a god if you look with sad eyes

there’s shakespeare in everything
and its all undeserving

there’s drama behind every curtain
and all the best legs
creep around like common juniper
into the fiendish, lonely night


    people make soup
   and they shoot themselves                                                                with shotguns


                      it doesn’t all make sense.

                               don't make sense.

                                           make oatmeal