quiet night traffic far away
every now and then a pup yelps
a wayward bird sings outside my bedroom tree
on book table black pressed wood
furniture of wayward youth
thrift store jar where my heart lives
a pair of dying calla lilies
representatives of shifts in life
into a phone i type feelings that should have been spoken many years ago
supple tender gentle were my hands
reaching up to the hearts of men
and discovered as i pulled back empty bleeding stumps that they had no love to give me
it’s cold
fog morning
cemetary waking up
birds pitch black
mean beaks hell song
yellow eyes like jewels at antique store
flowers stand at ease
giants among the remains of someone’s mother
peace thriving in the land of make believe
worms yawn loudly
slipping in the dew
sky pewter gray
tufts of pink and baby blue
like your dilated pupils
that still seep into my miserable days lowering the golden bamboo blinds
the strong black coffee obsidian in my cup
gaping for molasses
amber golden brown from Canada
Neil Y nameless horses guitars and essence of sand
i sip and i wonder
i dreaming on the couch
will meet you at Jack’s alley
doo wop were the days
when you let the voices out of their cage a movement of freedom
within the confines of infinite youth
all are welcome and there you go
climbing up the stair to heaven
on steps of words one atop another
city light bay we the beat and stray
hipster pharaoh usher to the generation drunk in experimental experience at night morning sober in stark madness
busses flowers LSD plus the three
i’ll wait in tenderloin scribbling
hieroglyphs on chewing gum wrappers catching whispers in the wind with flowers in my hair
paper cuts betwixt the webs of my hands
snap the jazz between the streets
my shoe untied my notebook knowing
that smile i do when missing you
RIP Lawrence Ferlinghetti
to just be alone
in my room
quiet
to just remember if
i have felt
loved
but just alone was
irrefutable proof that
i
had never been like
i was told
always
yet like a fool
i wept stained
silence
so very lucky to have the Pope of Punk R. Banks put sound to the word with me
there’s five green apples golden freckles on their skin
heater on cozy my hands icy
coffee molasses ice sugar cubes
glass tinted Armenian style
chest gentle heave breasts not in confinement
feet bare electric black polish on crooked toes from walking too early
eyes looking particularly nowhere
thinking about wishing to feel like a Michael Stipe song
standing fingertips wipe eyes from tears
Nina Simone where are you
ashtray heavy crystal lead a junk store whimsy buy
looking south outside the window
buildings tall short stout
like the teapot in that song
this linoleum floor where feet are flat
i witness her smog pink shanks
good morning Los Angeles
welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon
i thought we were through
pacing and sinking i wrestled you out
only to find you in my heart
why do you come wolf moon unmovable fool
you are a life sentence
when i got born you were there to receive me
when peace took a powder
both faces of the clock urge me to tell you
welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon
will you stop my doubt
i’ll keep pushing you outside
let me lie alone by this brook of dwindling despair
Billie with her lamenting mouth around midnight noon
“I’ve got those Monday blues
Straight through Sunday blues”
welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon
sitting on rooftops you toast your light
on my wild girl hair
with my fingers cramped pull up a comet
lay your silver fire on me
don’t hide away after our tasting
who fell into whose clutches
welcome back tonight you sad and pale wolf moon
shame
like a flower
blush
bleed the rain
silence
hums the snow
thrust
against complacent waves
dusk
winter grows tired
morning
falls like silk
tired
rest now still
little green cactus
kneeling in the sunlight
coffee soil all around
its white pot-bellied pot
heart calm palms dry
no dust storms in the lights
crooner serenades me
tells me about the days of wine and roses
that have left an unclear life
thoughts dawning
eyes drawn into a book shelf
toys pictures memories
rubbing elbows with Buk and the Bard
while the cats purr the moment away
still my heart calm
arteries stretching out like tiny arms
shut my eyes and wonder how
i can be happier
hey its me
standing here
watching pixelated faces lecture me
Mrs. K spits
as the psyche creaks
politicos burrow into the livers
the decorated soldier begs in vain
dog puke dog and starves to death
and any one rich man holds the Sun hostage
we’ve arrived
mutated as this
guilted to breathe it in
carefully engineered rhetorical prison
abandoned lots with broken earth
and wifi chambers force my heaving love to transfer through a tiny yellow ball
long gone by the days of my defense of common sense our bloods leak out of the pipelines
cut from this
mouth cannot afford to feed so we label it starvation chic Spring collection 2021
from a city where His houses are closed but the fuck joints spread eagle open
and instead of elevating our children to a sacred garden
your success plan exclusively gives us their early termination option involuntarily of course
beat into this
bleeding and punching at it punching at it punching at it for this
self sacrificing to it
choking like it
mutated
berated
humiliated
because of greed
used by it
raped and sodomized by it
sold down the sewer by it
indentured to it
turned stupid through it
sterilized by it
the soul cauterized
hands plucked off
the tongue
the dust
the micro wave
broken fists bow to the 5G gods and all of the ROC’s men
somnambulant diagnosis reach for the
SSRI’s
SNRI’s
MAOI’s
we’ve voted into this desperate resignation
we’ll pay into the bottomless recession
that put together with our farthest most ancestors brought back from heaven cant help us from debt
commandments will be outlawed
turn in thy neighbor will be a passport to breathe one more 8 hour pain filled day
charity will be useless
schooling will be punished
the Statue of Liberty shall pawn her torch for three dollars
God particles will slice time wide open
the horned beasts will be the priests
because hell hath no fury like the secretary of state scorned
the new world order hid away Galileo’s brain
law will pass
nature will pass
we will pass
men on fire will eat men of eternal flames
those who are spared will be consumed by the madness of the NYSE silent bell
space stations will be the new sub stop
packed lemmings with visible dog tags
shooting off operation warp speed go go go to build castles in the clouds for them if there’s a future Florida
lord Silly Con forbids your show of common grace Queen Squad will soon order you off with my head simply because she can
*this offering was inspired by the prophetic genius of Bukowski’s Dinosauria, we
