|
Pinch
Me, |
| I
|
|
Go Juice,
|
|
II |
| Trust.
I’m losing it No it is Being lost. Sir, “Can you Help please, In which aisle Will I find What I’m looking For – If I could Be more specific I would be.” & so on. & so forth. & so what? So I’m told. So that It is so. “What makes This salad Epicurean?” I don’t know. What do you Know. Really? I’m hungry For what? Does it matter. -PAUSE- -REWIND- -PLAY- “Can you not Help please?” Huh? Corn & Potatoes “That has nothing to do with salad” – Then neither will I -STOP- |
| III
|
| Last
Night Was Rough I had to turn off the TV news last night. I just can't stand hearing it anymore. They are all pigs, and at this point it just feels like the evening news is just for rubbing it in. A president we
didn't elect, talking about a sorta war "Poor stockholders,
I mean employees, I mean all of us, Bread Everyday my passport They'll murder
for pennies |
| IV
|
| I
cry. I miss my farm. My days full of beautiful toil. His words, Samuel Clements that is, describing the view. In the best years of his life. The same words for some of mine. I never thought I could miss it like that. Just a caretaker, a farm hand Men in the Navy and their boats I understand. To leave a legacy To live a legacy Just doing your job. When it lands you will know And you will cry too. To pull another Locus Another shovel of mulch A barn so red you could taste it The mulberry tree. Falling asleep and being caught In the hammock out front. I can still smell the breeze And the library, And I can't stop crying. |
| V
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| These
days These days Can’t drink enough Can’t smoke enough Can’t fuck enough Chances need to be taken Allen makes sense Jack makes sense Neal makes sense They talk to me, about things. Go to school, we are a school. & it hasn’t been the same Since fate separated us. The blurry burning nights, The cold harsh ones. You could be such a bitch & I loved every second of it. -Another liter gone by My lips & I’m back in Angles At the all night orgies, Then to a rainy day & A bottle of wine & a secrete. Prague, Sofia, Istanbul I looked for you Everywhere. Drunk Lost Alone “Co je moi tanecnicka!” Thank god I found you when I did. Or someone. Those days These days Two masters We are a school Fuck them all We are artists We drink life Cock in hand Bloody nose Bottle in other Still searching, Climax Rinse Repeat. |
| VI
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| America,
“go fuck yourself with your atom bomb” Saint Ginsberg never made so much sense America, Forget Afghanistan, Your terrorists are here. America, I have left before, I’ll do it again. You who kill your children, The best and brightest Junior high school death It’s not the worst fate. Most ride the melodious Throbbing cock or sugar Cube Cola war into Endless repetition. America, I have found the Flaming sword. America, The high haired one Has spoken, Spoken to Me. America, From the silky curls of Your lush conch My wet soul slipped out. America, Is destiny manifest? Is anything? Is everything? America Mericaa Ericaam Ricaame Icaamer Cacmeri Am I OK Anymore America ? You are not, & I’m telling mom |
| VII
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| Alone
with my thoughts. A cup of Coffee, And a cat, That could care less. I spoke to god tonight. More like yelled. You're a piece of shit. Am not. Are So. Then I thought about it, And he was right. Stupid fucker can't be, Unless I am too. |
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