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
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
WILD BEAUTY DEAD, LOOSE-BALANCED ADJECTIVES
his lips were moving
good-bye good-bye
after a strong storm
I trimmed him out
with sharp scissors
DEPRIVED OF ALL MATERIAL COMFORTS, MOST SINNERS CRY FOR THEIR MOMMY AND DADDY
poor eyesight and shriveling genitals
sustained attention impossible
the flashlight of your spirit
will it ignite ?
SATAN WAS LONELY TODAY AND GAVE ME THE HARD SELL
after 20 years I wanted a cigarette
I wanted to say the F word
step away from the church
move to Moab, Utah
DON’T WORRY WE’RE NOT GOING TO BURY YOU OR COOK YOU
going to inflate you like that Pink Floyd pig
permit you to float away
(+) when the detectives knock on the door, I’ll make up a lie
WHAT MAN POSES FOR THE RESURGENT MALENESS POSTER ?
not me. I sit alone crying, listening to Nick Cave sing “push the sky away”
the imagined values outside the walls, outside our skins
the cult of Modern America, our futuristic flying cars, pessimistic nutrition
and occasionally a hairball coughed up from 1965
CONVERSATIONAL POETRY 