I like to do things like

I like to do things like,
recommend the Beatles
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
to people.

"It's good! It's pretty good."

Meanwhile, total hypocrite

I never even heard the thing.

tired is like being drunk

when the world is tired, and you reel
to see the lights, you feel the wind move by
and find the sounds where they live, and all the surfaces
are where you lie.

Idolatrous

I want to bear you on a palanquin
through ancient market squares, where green
and azure tapestries hang walls
between stout bamboo booths and stalls,
whose tables groan with merchandise
with opulence, with gems and spice
and you'll be dressed in bolts of silk
I tied myself, after your bath
a ritual of honeyed milk
you'll soak your skin
luxurious.
I dry you off, I'll polish, buff -
that honeyed milk
is sticky stuff

Form Ranks

Form ranks
and file out
into the hall and congregate
amongst yourselves,
with only those
upon whose trust
you can securely count

and whisper looks
and listen eyes
slight truth can add a lovely sheen
to color all the mutual
and ugly lies
that pass
between

- just we -

whom we can trust! Not those
we smile and praise to their wry face.
The awful truth on them is known
(we made it right here, in this place)
it's true our truth could not stand light
but it fits perfect, small and mean
in this dark room
and dark is cool!
come on
hang out!

You're on the team

the money we wasted

the money we wasted
would never have made it
through to our pockets and wallets
today. It would have been used up in minor expenses
the pinches and crises that pass without mention,
which we made it through without bloodshed or famine
in so many clever
and desperate ways.

I'd never take back, not for tenfold return
all the money we burned through on nothing to burn
when we purchased so little of worth,
when we bought
a succession of moments that held

all we sought.

twilight way

We definitely went the wrong way.
Tall trees in front, above, behind us
turning into silhouettes, against
a pink and bright blue monster
streaming up with reaching tendrils pressed
above and over, peeking down at us
through one long rent - a gap
someone has scratched through thick black crayon wax,
along the bent and twisting trail
that trails behind
and bends ahead for miles and miles
- "how did we miss the turn?" I ask.
"there weren't any turns," you sigh
"But isn't this the way we came?" I say,
despite our upward climb. We know by now,
we should be going down - and soon,
we will be blind

believe the hype.

baby you and me girl
we will be so pompous
to announce our next scandal,
we will call the press conference

protect you

good, seeing you

Some dumb rock show huh? See the people around
bounce, bounce off

I will do my best to hold a space
around you.

My best is not bad
(it has to be)
This band is too great
to risk ruining it when you start kicking people!

But I don't know why - after all that is past,
why I am happiest
when I can circle my arms
around your shoulders protecting you.
as if you need it. as if you ever did

did I shrink and you grow,
since the days when I thought you did?

and now
do I grow, and you shrink? my gorillalike forelimbs
sheltering your birdlike bones - no,

you are strong. Not hollow, nor fragile, yet you
lean in

just a little,
and I am sure I am neither so strong, nor so clumsy as my hands
suggest -

And there is nothing between us to protect,

anymore.

but you.

Quite A Bit!

Do you know how much I love you?

It would be impossible for you to know.
Your puny mind can't comprehend it.

The enormity of the force of the sheer feeling
that I have for you in my heart
would shatter any number of lesser hearts,
like yours. To bits. Just be glad: this burden

is mine, to bear. You will never know the force
of it. The force
of how much I love you.

But no, don't thank me!

I do it gladly.

Such is the strength of my love, that it makes light
of paltry burdens.

insomnia afternoon

why is it so bright
I mean
my eyes are swimming
skies are shock cerulean blue
and clouds are white, like magic white
in towered blocks
but I can't sleep forever, yet
it's like a waking nightmare, oh
so beautiful,
I hold it back
as this black ribbon winds me home

this little old couple

this little old couple
sat right next to me at the bar
of the wine bar / cafe
that I sometimes frequent after work.
it can be hard to go home, when you know -
it's such a cute little place,
the food's really something.

this little old couple
at the little wine bar cafe
were so adorable
they asked about what I had picked,
and was it good?

it was. The husband ordered the same thing, and
I wasn't listening in

but they were so adorable
that my heart broke open again.
once again, another damn time
with both halves cleanly-split
like my salad's avocado - with its hard,
heavy pit -
aching
from the loss of the one
who I thought I would grow old
with.

It can be hard to go home, when you know -
what you know. But, you know,
I'm not ready - I've never been ready
to give up. But

I guess I need someone new
to grow old with.

geometric rates

our love should increase at a geometric rate
as I grow exponentially into your life
and the angles and arcs of your heart fill with sparks
from the lines and the
fuck
I failed geometry.

your mercy, you know

I'm pretty much at your mercy, you know.
Though you may know it not.
Your sword-point is poised,
- hanging by a far slimmer gossamer thread
than the one under which ol' Damocles sat - and aimed
by a perfect hand with perfect eye,
in one blade-straight line from the center of my heart
up tip, foible, forte, hilt, pommel,
to the sky.
Note -
not the bottom of my heart.
No, nor the top -
but the center.

You, dear, will run me through
one of these days.
(if in fact, you haven't already -
that sword of yours
- so sharp, I may not feel the pain
'til I fall)

invisible light

her invisible light
shines out from between the stars
and she colors the night
an invisible shade of blue

as she gets on my mind, I bow my head
from the weight of one thought

which is weightless itself!

- but freighted like chains,
and chests of gold
from the pondering
that I have put into it,
and shut the lid.

Well,

I can't see it, but

the light leads me on,
and I guess this is faith, or
tenacity, wait - what's the one
that is blind? Oh, love

bump

that last poem is like
really throwing me off

I'm coming in here all
"poem time!"
"time to write a poem!"

then the first thing I see is all
THAT

it's anti-conducive to the mood, I tell you.

anti-conducive to the mood

I must be getting so much pussy

I must be getting so much pussy
he says, all
big smilin'
but -
it doesn't appear to be a self-contained statement.
he either thinks it's a question, or at least
he seems to want an answer

well hey man I got no complaints

bullshit he says
I must be swimming in it
again with the questioning glare

shoot, I hate to bust anyone's vicarious groove. But
the
fact
is dude,
not really, I'm kind of a one woman man

bullshit again where is she?
finally a legitimate question mark at least. She's
elsewhere. hence the sigh and there's the rub

fuck that he says.
cut that distant bitch loose and live here now my man!
with this, he's adopted an almost fatherly,
wise, zen buddhist tone

because as he repeats:
I should be getting so much pussy
what am I a faggot?

now, he seems to actually want an answer to this.
well what do you mean, man?
he means, fuck!
with that fucking
line of patter of mine, and
the overall shape I cut
(I presume he means my jib)
I should be swimming in it
swimming in it

well fuck, pal - I'm a feminist ok? I don't need these
meaningless
dalliances, depersonalizing the totality of a woman's being down
to some
pink hole in a sex engine

after a moment,
he asks me to repeat that

I repeat something else instead
a tad more couth, but he cuts me off

"feminism? fuck feminism" he asks

you're missing out my man, I confide
- feminist pussy is the best
he doesn't laugh
at that, but that's ok
(it's true!)

he's on full steam forward.
"fuck feminism!" he spits

no

I mean literally

the dude turned his head and spat. On the floor

I'm a bit at a loss by this point.
and well, not much to lose by capitulation, so "You
know what man? You called it. I
must be getting
so much
pussy."

He knew it. With a big side-stache grin

He fucking knew it.

line cutters

I am a dead man
struck by eyes of you,
I can see all the way
from here to the end of this life
and it's all coming true
it's coming straight down
the line -

it's coming right at us

so hold on tight kid
and give us a kiss on the cheek,
for luck!

now forward
towards fate, we have turned
we are faced
we await the clank
and the rattling chain
yanking us inexorably up
that first
big
hump

and you wait,
you push back and up
with your back, with trust
with my arms circled round
your waist - and your head tucked down
you whisper something
just once

well hang on for dear life, now

here it comes

a bit too personal

I like long walks on the beach
holding hands
I can dance, but I'd rather not lead
all those fancy footwork held-together
dance-step techniques and routines
they're too beautiful to see, oh, I wish that was me
but I can only dance free-
style, to

semi-modern music. Apart
- not together, dance apart
the way each person does their best,
and does their best to watch the other's best
and tries not to overstep
and maybe
apes or imitates a move or two
as long as it doesn't come across as being ridicule

that's how I dance
so as not to show you up, or
appear to be ridiculing you. In short,

I'm pretty considerate.

I like flowers, gourmet
desserts, a cigar
from time to time
and a woman who doesn't mind

but who is quite ready to speak her mind

none of that's to say
I'd be opposed to taking a dance class! or
couple's therapy, whatever -
it's all tantamount. The upshot is:
people need help. Sometimes

help

I'm very romantic, maybe even Romantic
with the capital "R", as if to say
I come in after Classical, and sneer down at Modern
from a cape-tossing windswept height,
from far up upon my quaint, antiquated antihero amoral basis
that makes the world and me all seem, well
pretty awesome, but I digress.

Besides, who can really say what's best?

I've said too much.
I leave it to you,
you know what you want!

I guess

There's this girl

There's this girl who's pretty tall
maybe tall as I am!
or even taller maybe, even
or shorter than that, or else
maybe WAY shorter. That's all
cool too, 'cause she's all
casual about it -
with an ass like BOMP
and some medium boobs, yeah,
you know the kind
or maybe flip it: BOMP boobs,
and a medium behind
but she's got these very
very-specific eyes

ah,

that girl's beautiful, no

that's no lie

a drinking contest between me and the wine.

my eyes are lips - not windows, no
(they drink you in) but still they lead
straight to my soul

my soul's been put
in such a state I'd call it drunk,
from drinking you

but that's no sin
I tip you back
and drink my fill. My heart is lifted high -

my eyes, so full of you they start to swim -

my mind's lost touch, my fingers slide
and slip - but not a drop is
spilled.

Now, drain the glass
again
now, fill

this one last glass to brim
is overkill
but raise it up
again:
to light
to life
to you

too much

too much

to quite take in

This thirst won't quench -

just one more glass

okay,

you win

The Gods have since revoked my gift

The Gods have since revoked my gift
the clouds had parted,
clear and hard, the light shone down
one chosen one

I

stood in mist,
with halo crown
and raised my head:
disordered skies

I moved and shaped the fog in waves,
from that - progressed, to carving clouds
with two bare hands and scornful gaze
until I'd built up towers high
and pushed them forth,
they roiled and spat electric curse upon the plain
lashed crops with rain
as gales blew flat the humble habitations there.
My cold laugh carried
down the wind
to stricken ears, and shaking fists

the Gods have since revoked my gift.

the Gods do as they wish. Who cares

I want you still

I want you still;
breathing deeply, asleep
by a fire with cold hot chocolate nearby,
knocked over
and you,
all wore out
feelings tender and warm
inside, while a particular smile
I never get to see when you're awake
- keeps dreaming its way
across your sleeping face
and I wait

your arm crooked
across the slim space between you, and me -
your hand - lightly splayed across my face
as if it were my hand, and as if
my smile were there to say "oh my, me!"
- one eye peeping through fingers
like a 1960s black and white publicity shot
of a Jewish comedian,
yes

my mind wanders,
but my eyes stay home.
And I look and I breathe in
and I breathe out and I look on (partly
through your fingers) at your face,
and I wait.

For one of two things:

either

for me to fall asleep,
my eyes never marking the moment
when the dream technically begins, or

for you to wake up.

and never go back

very much lost
from knowing too well where you're going.

have you ever been there?

I have, and it's always
the same,
always

in a different place.

Well,

- I'm leaving it now.

but I guess I know I'll be back.

Without ever once
turning around

lie awake

lying in bed
with nobody there
to be deceived
I'm lying to me,

I'm lying myself to sleep,
to sleep

with all of your favorite lies,
I'll keep.

mixing drinks

I drift in you
the light cuts past
between the bubbles
in your glass
the champagne of your talk surrounds
I'm fizzing in your thoughts, your sounds

and then you switch, your spirits still
so serious - I drink my fill
your thoughts distilled
in such clear light,
I'm going going to get
so drunk

tonight

drunk for days

I feel like I've been drunk for days
I haven't had a drop
I drive around from place to place
so petrified
I saw a cop!
I wake, expecting hangovers
the headache never quite arrives
but still you won't evaporate
my blood is proof
and still you rise

blood in the water

I wash all the dishes
with all my sharpest knives
jumbled, skewed, concealed by suds, you know
it could be suicide
with the water so, so hot
and my propensity to push -
I cannot leave a task, half-done
I must complete what I've begun
even if I have to

red could be a warning sign
red, a call for help

I must complete what I've begun
the world is swimming black around
the visions closing in in front
I cannot leave a task, half-done

it's just a nick, a scratch
he lied

some wear their courage like a badge
I will push through, I'm almost done
and red could be a warning sign

you're soaking in it, madge

the decision-maker

my heart has set its heart on you
my mind has something else in mind to say
my soul sits on both shoulders, shaking heads
as the decision-maker
has its way

last race

you and I can run this marathon we're on
into the ground
or switch, we'll be triathletes now
- dive in and swim, then bike around
and up and over hills we'll chase, and trade first place
and second, too

but once we finish, well
we know

we're through

there's no prize left.

we're through

sudden night

She turned her rounded shoulders round
away, she turned
she turned away
her face she hid in darkness, down
she slid to darkness, there to stay
behind her, silent shone the light
she spurned, ignored its warming beams
and welcomed dark, and sleep, and night
and with a click,
the black came quick
with spreading sweep
of deepest wings

heartful of room

there's a great big piece of my heart cut out
but it keeps growing back, like a cancer cloud
so I cut and I scrape to clear that space,
just in case
just in case
just in case
just in case

if you ever came back, your place is clear
and clean, only emptiness in here

since nothing but nothing could ever replace
the space you took up

just goes to waste

Darling, go

Darling, if
you lose yourself in me,
fret not

for I will go in after
I will find you every day.

You, I could not bear
to lose.

to save for three days before Easter

I wish just once,
as they make that poor guy
carry that cross of his
again

that cross of his, biting in

the shoulder aching,
blood-raw and splinter-bitten from
that cross

of his

that they all say is ours, that they say is for us - well,

I, for one
wish that for just one year, they could tell him: just

stop.

Let it drop.

off your shoulder, let it
fall

and for this one time: just
leave it. And walk.

Go on, get out of here.

Just this one time,

We're letting you off
with a warning.

the good things away

you have to take
the good things away
with you. When she goes,
let the good things stay -
if she showed you
things you never knew before
in yourself, well
maybe she put them there

but let them stay
let some good
stay

a strength of your own choosing

never forget the bullshit they did
hold on to it
hold on to it

carry it on your back like a load -
don't let go
don't let it go

and lower your gaze as you bend and puff
will it make you strong?
or just strong enough
to keep shouldering,

shouldering down the lane,
with your angry eyes
from that load of pain

people don't do

people don't do things
because of what you do.
people do things, because
they're on the way by
and they just passed through
and it caught their eye,
and it entered their mind
to do.

now it's true,
the more a person finds
you a non-waste of time,
the more they find reasons
to come the way by,
and the more things will enter their mind
to do

but it's nothing you did, you fool.

It's you

the challenges and rewards of domesticity

I left the butter out,
to get soft

so I could make bread and butter sandwiches
because I hate

when you're trying to make bread and butter sandwiches, and
anyway,

the butter did not get soft so much as
MELT

and it's not that warm in the house
but oh well

I made those sandwiches anyway
I just felt like a snack.

bread and butter sandwiches,
a bowl of hot heinz tomato soup
(in the blue-teal can!)
and a bread-and-butter pickle spear. Now,

what

in all of that snack

- makes this a poem?

It just might be this rhyme
right
here.

Fun Bus

Sitting reading books on a BIG! STUFFED! SEAT!
you, and next to you it's just ME! ME! ME!
and next to you and me is the guy across THE AISLE!
he's looking kind of weird but he's got a nice! SMILE!
he better not try to horn in! on! THIS!
or else I'll have to tell him something FOR. HIS. FACE.
our conversation's going all OVER, THE, PLACE
and then I lean in and whisper

whsspr whsspr whsspr whsspr

He couldn't hear that now COULD? HE? HUH?
it's just between us, on this whole FUN BUS!
It's none of his biz what your ears just heard!!
Except I want to shout it to the WHOLE! DUMB! WORLD!

fooled

You believed in the best
that you saw in me.
You knew that was not all I am.
A person is more
than the outer surface they show to the world,
for one thing.
A person is far more
than their best, for another.

And my best was not all you saw.

But you believed in the best. You believed
in the best, that you saw
in me.
And
you gave me a chance to be that best.

Dear,
it was not you
not you

who was fooled.

a prayer of you

If I die before I wake,
I hope I never wake / and if
I never wake, may this please be
the dream my mind can linger in
eternally.