SOMETIMES I FIND IT DIFFICULT TO EMPLOY PROPER FILTERS
Satan was on television this morning
he had permission from above
to impose his temptations
to offer his wares
young white boys
willing to kill strangers
both sides of the Law
wanting violence
from cradle to grave
sitting at the table
blood and guts
behind the screen
death is rather nasty
mommy and daddy
blood monsters
rape and plunder
hide before the sun goes down
(+) Satan was on television this morning
he had permission from up above
EVERY MORNING THAT SHE’S NOT ON THE ROAD, SHE LEAVES THE SAME NOTE ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER. IT READS, “I DON’T WANT TO BE ADELE”.
Assorted strays in her corral of lovers. Some willing to listen and others there just to pave her insides. How many condoms would it take to be safe ?
Sequins on the breath, golden threads dangling down. Intercourse over the phone from the country estate.
FOR REASONS UNKNOWN, WE TRY TO IGNORE THE BIG HOLE AT THE CENTER OF OUR PRESENT.
Ditch-digging through Michael
insufficient clay feet long gone
the new legs sleep under the bed
therapeutic narcotics on the nightstand
pillows from the Aldous Huxley estate
never a nuisance, my night porter
he closes my eyes
EVE PRAISED YESTERDAY AND WANTED IT TO BE EVERY DAY, ADAM FOUND VALUE IN TODAY AND WANTED IT TO BE THE FOUNDATION FOR TOMORROW
you know and you know not
you listen but you never learn
the angel says that you are lukewarm
and spits you out
(+) pity those with need of nothing
SADLY, I WAS THERE THE DAY THEY PULLED YOU FROM YOUR TRUCK AND MOST OF YOUR LEFT SIDE SLID DOWN AND YOU SEEMED A WELL-MADE SCARE CROW. IT WAS TERRIBLE, THE BOB DYLAN I LOVED WAS MOSTLY CRAFTS FROM HONG KONG
The last American poet, the tumbleweed from the 1960 era
just some fiber and plastic coated chicken wire
the government magnets were there
no surprise, an agent for the -***-
just look how they dressed you
old flop house sofa material
molded on daily
THE RENTLESS STRUGGLE TO THROW OFF THE MIND AND THE WILL ONE IS BORN WITH AND PERMIT THE GREAT APE TO ESCAPE
you will find me in the cemetery
rows of Michaels
fields of Michaels
I was the first burial baby
all burial babies after me
came from my seed
carrying flesh on my bones
I was never free of “all the higher emotions”
the chains of masculinity
STANDING IN THE FRONT ROW: THE PHALLIC CULT
never go outside, it is all Dog Dick Bosch
demon genital couplings
purging anal birth
apocalyptic art historians
stay indoors
explore infantile hang-ups
work through the corruption
sandpaper the divided personality
invest in sensual and spiritual extremes
love all genders
especially those athletic
PERHAPS NATALIE MERCHANT COULD SING A DITTY ABOUT THE WHOLE EVENT
no secret that Eve had difficulties with self-abandonment
God with his fake Hollywood simulation of caring
Adam resenting his limited submission to her
withholding during lovemaking
withholding more and more
CITIZENS OF PLACEBO TOWN LINED THE SHORES OF THE RIVER, DESPERATE TO SEE CHARLIE CRUISE BY
I know the light is different
the pain new, the worm closer to your soul
poor Charlie could no longer make the payment
the debt is raw
don’t hold onto your thoughts, Charlie
memories become your worst enemy
THE SOLITARY MAN IN BLACK WHO SENT ME A VALENTINE EACH YEAR
he begged me to die first
commitment issues
loneliness and solitude
(+) loneliness barks
(+) solitude purrs
CONVERSATIONAL POETRY 