where do you go when you lay your head to rest;
upon the laurels in the canopy of breath,
or to wildwood thickets and entangled pure excrement of excite;
your supine tenderness blurs the lines of tremendousness
into the minds' concupiscent forlorn worlds,
Worlds for new Words, and tinders beautiful blues while
the light's hum their tremulous cries, and the majesty of woman
reigns hero and heroine, mused and amused, in the qu'ues of real crimes

what all makes us feel so alive

is in the spaces between the words where the unspoken
can make imagination leap oceans in a single bound

let us be a tad explanatory,  
the accuracy of hi)s(tory,
starts with the evolution
of his revolutions,
his tree rings are
2.481481 multiple
of some of you
and this vantage point
just is,
neither dis or ad

my window fire escape is in NYC,
mon arrondissement est Le UES,
my-e-scapes, my e-names,
multiplying and manifold,
all revealed and revered,
even the state sanctioned one,
the nomination law-approved,
all are in the consciousness and the conscience
flowing in his thousands of writings,
all delivered
by the ancient viaduct roman
in the cerebrum of him
by the whim,
by the command of muses,
by their voices becoming,
now residents in his head

those tasking demanding, never satisfied,
poetry gods/goddesses remade the human,
plucked him to be a science project,
began by teaching him observation,
the meaning of colors
in comprehending feelings
by employing the senses five,
working as a team coordinated,
a team of superheroes
(POW! BAM! SPLAT!)
armed with the powers of
kindness, modesty and a
love for the sensuous,
that speaks volumes sensual
with no words, and the sound
on low
and together then, extract
the elements and plaster all into story
with the truth and fantasy interspersed

all his accumulated lovers,
future current and past,
look over his shoulders
as poet composes
suggesting constructs and textual emendations,
this's and that's, and don't forgets,
and some,
what does it matters...to this unusual text

fear nothing, except restraint, make knowing distance,
a precarious safety net, at best, no, not your best friend,
safety comes from the roots of who you are,
and so simple, there they are, written out for you,
in a thousand plus easy to follow steps

it is not distance that's the issue
reminds me, Herr Professor Albert,
(who takes the fall colors thru his eyes)
but time, yours, his, the chiefest enemy,
unless you can bend its curve
in shared poetry intelligible and cloudy
<•>
4:14am

We met at that UES Pub
Almost three years ago
And we ended up getting closer
Than she who introduced us to each other.

So much history engraved
In the diamonds we sold.
Moments when it’s just us in a room typing,
Talking about our past and common dreams.

Laughter and our hold on our faith
It’s what glues us together.
All the late nights at the office with music blasting
We sing along and continue working.

We were made to be in sync,
From knowing each other’s thoughts without speaking
To that silent, judging look we share
Then chortling because things happen for "a reasons."

You are the other half of me,
From our same decibel laugh and partner appetites
To the fact that I fit in your clothes
During unplanned sleepover nights.

I might not have replied
Mostly because I was too busy hugging you and crying
But yes, and I know your heart knows this
You are my NY best friend too.

T* wo
W eeks
E arly...
,
N ot
T he
Y oungest...
,
F orever
O btaining
R adiant
T wo
H ues

O nly
F or

F ew
E yes...
,
B right
R ivalries
U nite...
,
A new
R elative's
Y earling...


                          *Hello Again, My Reminder Of my Birth
                                                     *2-24-00