mostly, i’m ignoring my hand inside
his hand. such composure, i felt
at least like the mona sphynx.
for a simpler done times
when he’d mellow
in the meadow, by the
black river pines.
mostly. the compressed hand between
his own. such affection, in
pats, like butter on toast.
you’d have thought the days,
if you used that phrase, which you
didn’t. cause thought is action and now is
you pretended, i did, that i was the start of
we took off our clothes when we could, we
danced. we made colors when there were only
tinted grays. we educated.
somewhere, there’s still a music we engendered,
running around on mt. diablo, brighter than a
thousand cheap woodstocks.
you ran naked on the beach, and nike wept for every
dollar it lost. you ate brown rice and macdonald’s fumed at
hippies and fried a dead fish for its health.
you wandered alien on the streets of frisco, berkeley, NYC and
didn’t know there was that much money in us, i mean, head
shops and groovy were liberated and there i was, broke and needing
ginsberg told you that you write like a sissy. alan watts told you to
come back when you had money. gary snyder now talks story from the
telephone book to keep an audience. fuck all that, it’s not your life.
the world turns on its axis, it sometimes shifts. i look both ways before i
paint my dream. the day has come, when i’ve realized i only paint or
write what i can show. do you see the “71” in this poem?
these gray lights over casper drape
over tiny white flecks of water
thown over the secret riverfall of
time has no place.
and, here we die,
lay and wait for the sky to break open
and light to fall down.
let light scrub the afterday of
many sorrows, wash our
fantasies. bright smile
our dream world of
paper floors and hollow candies, make it glow.
let love go, and i’ll be a
whisper behind the
music in a distant clear blue sky of
many stars, they seek their wonders inside a
vapor tide of ice and shadow. take me there.
showed us we could
think like one, one person,
to build your yangsee dam,
your happy society
as you told them.
you protected them from
their animal nature,
told them biology was
dead, that they don’t need
to think or question.
your woman is inferior,
because she doesn’t get
with the plans exactly,
wants you to spend more
time with your son,
who is a nine year
old dope addict. if he
would get with the
plan, you could talk with
when all them, they,
get un-sync’d and want your
job, i like that look you
had when they, you didn’t
read the last chapter of
messiah am i.
spilled my coffee,
knocked it over, coffee all
over, spreading like some disease,
like dementia of a stupid old
pretentious old man, stealing everyone’s
ideas of fine and true — mongrel dog old
man, growing up chicken-shit trailer trash stupid,
everyone’s better than me. like, as if i could learn
how to be better than me.
gum-crack architecture — the way it’s arranged,
the way it’s balanced between lazy and
practical, my keyboard’s woodboard is now
dripping cold coffee on my knee,
and i’m wiping my knee with this
wear, cause i’m too lazy and stupid and
white trash to
use a hanky… speaking of, why am i fucking
whining like a sissy?
making a new cup of coffee,
making the thought in my head that
my board is fine as it is…
making in my mind the reality that
that cold drip was kind of trippy,
like water dripping off green moss on
some creek mountain side in oregon.
holding in my mind that i’m
connected with some kind of
touch-is-infinite, and energy is
out of my hed, my dik, my finger tips down
inside my hart with so much love.
always safe with you in the room,
the windows black, the silence cold.
no one speaks and time is old,
the empty clock, the tightened mouth.
i play chopin with no piano,
writing your memoires.
… someday soon, you’ll be on the internet,
you’ll invent it, tattling your friends.
always fun to be a parrot in a gown,
i move through blackness, quiet heart.
said we’d be till ‘do us part’,
the holy kiss, the tightening ring.
sometimes the tide takes more
than’s on the shore. give it
your castle, and it ups and
asks for more. make me a
move next door.
say to me a young man’s
way too young for me.
been around the planet,
my life is what i take with
your life and my song,
ocean to my sea.
love to read plato,
like to read wittgenstein.
witt loved talking,
plato just loved his
i like your groin groove,
slide down the end of
had a thought flash,
that the end was the start
of things. light from dark
was a big bang, cadillac,
watch you leave,
blackness’ all the bang bang