i like a poem that says
'my friend'
is inviting, pal
keep that shit up

how ya doing

man alive is talking
about a foot in a couch
is a man in the wind flat.
which is where we stood.
i wouldn't have laughed but i had.
loved it, in fact.
loved where to start
less than a foot
from the space heater
i throw a blanket on it
designate its gender
and pet it, cheek
against fleece against steel
this is better than a dog
tells her

i hope all is well

what these celebs have
in common with us
is a smokey basement

tan and lighter browns
lights pass hands
fingers touch fuck

when you've got a little
give it a match strike
circle round the enviro-log

now i awaaake!
she two rises
in the yard the snow

of ash peppered
us and our jasmine tea
enviro-log disintegrated

it was the blurst of times
said squishy poet

11/3/13

over and over again
seasons think
I do come again
burst into the shower
mumble and drink
like a baby,
     I walk to the part of
the room
where two windows
and a door meet
a blanket of sun
on my bare ass
feels fantastic
my warm ass

I sit outside
down on the blue
since my baby said
     goodbye
hit me when the
lows are low
Takahashi could cry
look at me, a
song, a
child of 25
moving up there?
Blue at any point in time,
and sigh,
only trying travel
an exhilarating
expense of the
mind & breath
give
       give
              give
take in trees
never in

---

Sunset Strip
a languishing future
meet you on
the escalator
the stream long hairs
too -- obsessive compulsive
w books and
flies -- pretty shy -- I,
can't think of why,

can be skin-to-skin
can be sopping wet
and dry --
faces strange
faces, passions drain
in the may
made in it rain
today, humid pains
burning sprains --
more
morain --
a term geology.

Stranger
don't look
away, there
exists a pair
of eyes for
you here!

even if for
a passing breeze
a drop of a leaf
isn't that
something more
than cars smog
and random
chatter that
means shit to
you

like this look these faces
perhaps you're
too encumbered
by the weight
of yr own
steps and posture
to be bothered,
w/such trifles
life is one big
trifle to me.

I've got in it
got out too
thinking of
gramps there
don't look back --
bad luck they say,
family superstition.

lower eyes like
casket
throw a rose onto
lashes
mood = indigo

song --
Jacks, squares
aligned
cards for colleagues
not really colleagues.
where to go from here
until September?

(no title)

Steps!
on and all
steps down
ride swivel
slide,
on each curb
a ramp an orange
a man steps out
skips around comes
to work
at night? no.
have fun fucking each
other now
don't say shit
don't quiz me on any-
     -thing
Don't smile & whistle
don't cock
yr head and
grasp anything
it is for the
better
says old tzu
he tasted that vinegar,
boy, man,
heaven sweats
a sickle marks away on
the forehead
many bumps --
that is such
an agreeable road to take
o! god the
frustration
to not complete the lines
what resources do
you have, what
meaning outside
besides empty fiction
men renew and hoard
the lazing pages, a
mindless filter
I'll dictate to you
what to do and how
to do it, impress upon
you what makes women
and men
what keeps them apart,
brings them together
-- girl, you've got
an option now
but you toss it as if
they came easily to
most -- that's
privilege
that's a sign
that you should

(music continues)

She twirled toward me once
in a piano scale of
lights, sat w/
straight back
of all the times
against a back --
               drop --
of fountain lights
we took a pic --
no, she took one
of me, I wish I could
see it now, was I
in love? would such a
 thing show on my face?
I loved her
sitting w/ a completely
satisfied face
endorphins flowing
over a bag
tongue sliding side to side
o,
  o,
    o,
      o,    me?
call   o,
           o, me?
call
    don't dare
     to,

don't dare to ask
and wonder --
all I have left of
those times, shit
the fuck do I do
w/ these memories
besides write poems?
this poem
is memory
in active flow
in active flow
flow/here
flows/water
in between the jets
in the fountain
watching the city from
a window,
looking at myself on the ground,
looking up --
w/ a feeling that I
might want to
leave, always that
feeling to abruptly sense
the right and
no's of the situation
man, fuck that.
should've left
should've left
forever, and cut it off
like a snake bite --
nothing here left but the
nub that is a
poem --

Shivering stunned
and confused! @_@
senselessly beautiful
no twirls
no hips in the embrace
the eyes in the hug
no sensing anything
anymore
but a poem that
sings and
I hum along
w/ empty stomach and
heart, until
later, I
hungry for her
write my fill
burp, piss, shit,
come,
          away, stayed.

PGW over the
income limits
full w/ a big belli
I, having the
obsessed notion
of an acrylic table
a bigger yard
than expected

a stanza distorted
by a cigarette
line a puff
sucking in of
bread acme
w/ Dan, not a great
or in his own words,
a fun shopping
companion.

What do I do I
just write write
write?
What am I doing
I just
lay down and
resolve not to
fight at all,
I just

lay flat on my back
and scream incessantly
and hear the
things that come
through --
       a foreign
        language.

Don't listen to me
Don't speak to me
Don't hold my hand
my shoulders sore
and weak
stretches and breaks

I gotta make calls
I gotta answer the
texts
I gotta take calls
I feel like a
wreck
I feel like a text
in a wreck
so many 'important'
things to do
I do it all I
grocery shop
walk home
just flop

Don't use someone else's
benefits Don't excuse
me 'got enough there'
nod head rapidly
fun times wax
I know all yr
friends I miss
a few times last night

Fran came w/ Madison
she was a cute girl
she looks like that girl
that needed rescuing
when she started
drinking again.

She pulls up, I wave her
in I say howya doing
she gives a cute smile
she has short hair
which I find cute
I place the AC in the
trunk and they drive off

I wear beb's blue slippers
outside/they took
a long time
I was nearing the end of
a cigarette
and thought man one
cigarette and still not
here/I try to finish
the depressing death of
Ivan Ilyich

the poor bastard can I
relate to him then
when he screams
he screams for three
days straight.

jasmine

in my own time,
could've managed them all
playwrights and pitfalls
this is mine

       a cold morning breeze
       on my toes
   
       Garfield and ash
        ash bits in tea
         Jasmine

If I would apply myself
scolding trees against
     my back
      turns I leave
a new one up to the coarse clouds

wino speeches whips in
             the wind
"Oh man, a narrow bed!"

Can't hardly stop shivering in the
faces of friends   and
new persons

what was last year's birthday?

how about powerade?
yeh, sure, fine.
Blue or red?                     always blue
Blue                                 she giggled on
Blue                                 the sofa.
Blue                                  it takes care
                                          of her.


                   

Don't stop to write
feels like autumn
      no more
even regular breaths
      drop like
      ketchup from
      packets.

John can I have one
nice beer?
ooh -- wet hopped
      ale? huh?

gimme the powerade.

Subaru Forrester --
the official car of
Mt. Airy.