throw me some tomatoes
for the salad you want
me to write -- right
now these are just
vegetables.
In the coffee house,
drink coffee.
Overhear professor --
scholarly men
talk about . . .
responsible things.
Wash yr face w/
dry soap/ stay in bed,
stay parked
in a blot of ink
blacked university
promises.
more rain outside
more reflections of rain
I sit here, purple and
puffy -- unafraid
and jittery, very
clean now -- not oily.
scratch an ear
the last part of a
scuffling laugh that's
wet. Door closes w/
sound. Crash of
a symbol - screeching
geetar.
Ruffle of bags of
man leaving -
--Bristly chin, also?
--Who gets the bill?
blow on the pages
randomly - again
the ink being chased
by police.
what kind of
carnival
smacks -- Yes! --
into a ch(??)en?
that kept running
through the hall,
out of someone's
gourd -- till the cops
arrive.
Hits an island,
forces up tryn the
passenger compartment
back door survival
front-yard wrestling
This poem is an
intro song
I strut and gaze
w/ arms outstretched
roaring like a rocket
ready to collect
DATA!
-Know when to end a
poem.
-Here's to learning how to
begin.
2.
A monsoon of intelligent
white men write
walk confidently into
coffee house
tip waitress/cashier
a buck reminding me
of Club Risque
last night
w/ the boys.
More or less a mountain
ridges of Philadelphian
newness, find
frank friends
what kind of
wear surprise canadian
geese wapwaping
being big blunt in
the country blind
come and go as he says
watery(?) Sean Taras
writing his articles
good eye - note - for
parking - wetness -
city mulch of
dependents us
all - drinking coffee
until it hurts -
there is no culture
to a drink to an act
felonies three or four
blocks -- how people
school themselves
a book bangs against
the wind --
trees are keeping me
awake in the
distance making
noise of cows.
craving my steamy
week to feel the
breeze on my skin.
Wet steel not
suppose to be.
Caramel laughter
in soft lighting.
mural cows not
stepping, art art
bad next to bath-
-room
-------------
Walking back to my
spear, there is a red
and large one
------------
I am a cow afraid
of its reflection in
a coffee house window
that I've created.
------------
I am young and
the world is not.
------------
I'll be gone when
the world goes.
No comments:
Post a Comment