(2014)
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
i keep smiling forgetting to remember to stop myself.
yes, darling you should come & take care of me, someone has to, & you
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
life and even one good thing– anything, a course in wonders becomes? no school, thanks not for me. no lesson one so likes declaring to find itself legs. no
cool this angst some with beer, amazing how it works, three in and suddenly ashamed that i could hate
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs
this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless
got the sex drive of 15 young bulls, but the women are all scared.
the conquering child turns 50, gets the gag out its mouth, says here i am. let’s play now
a few hundred million dying days later he emerges into crazy
when (finally) we meet I’m thinking spring wildflowers will bloom on high
shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts
.jpg?locale=fr)
