on Lake Titicaca Era of Giant Tapirs she stepped out of her craft Oreana her skin the deep sheen of gold with weird webbed feet & hands embraced the Boss Tapir * * * thus we began who have two breasts like her & intelligence & a womb like hers & a tool like the tapir’s…
Listen I am tired of being killed over and over your eyes whitewash my bones I feel my shadow fading on the wall. I think I look like a mouse small, quick, running under the door. Your wide smile hangs in trees prying apart the leaves; later you add paws, claws, long lusty fur that…
In the city at the terminal Pvt Gigure of the Air Force is having trouble choosing but leans toward a Payday candy bar. In the city at the terminal a painter whom I once met has nothing to say to me. In the city at the terminal Morris Mintz has managed to get his name…
Between then and now five years poker hands, poker face killing the time it takes. Five years lies obligations you cannot shelter everyone even one you cannot ignore this beginning grace.
How do you get to scream the world is good and we have only to lose ourselves in its goodness? Ask me in return and together we’ll question every man, woman and child we meet, and won’t it be the Lord’s Prayer if we all get up on our legs and shout out the question…
”i have the hunger” in 20 years all the tea will be dead communication will stand still and decent folk will fly back to the moon where they belong – we don’t care louder than they don’t care even the alphabet must die sooner or later, it’s got wings anyway and can make it…
For Darrell Gray Someone once told me it’s a non-verbal medium, expressing yourself to another. Someone else said, Please accept my apologies for not expressing myself better. I know what I mean, but the words, the WORDS will not contain it. They are like girls one meets & goes to bed with, & who afterward…
Soft, soft is my life and America is grand wherein I take off two whole days from work. The difficulty is in how to adjust to returning so that this hurting myself is to be included in my pleasure and the face of America, nose of a Mack truck, eye of a windshield, is not…
it doesn’t turn black from pink and you won’t be able to rest your eye while you think. You won’t think. The silence won’t be soothing as velvet to let you concentrate when the radio peters out. It won’t give you a float. And nothing like fresh cold water. It ain’t like going to sleep…
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