cool it, by Herman Shorts

cool it

cool this angst some

with beer, amazing

how it works, three in

and suddenly ashamed

that i could hate

everything so much.

(2013)

thank humanity for beer, if nothing else whatsoever.

love me past the edges, stances and masks, deeper than i know things.

yes, there is a gap between us always has been now it is

lie still. be quiet. please understand what happens so, next time

people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring

they really do know how to shove something up your ass like

shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts

my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible

god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.

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

like bell bottoms or disco but we need it to think i’m dead

yes, darling you should come & take care of me, someone has to, & you

i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing

here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i

I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be

finally, without knowing it was coming, he got to die. it was great. like a birthday party clown, he was equally the center