i want to rip my hair out

i’ve seen multiple coroners tents these few weeks white tiny like a fortune teller’s but there are no chances no predictions no suspicions just finality i’ve not felt myself murder being televised 5G capitalized on death’s dealings my smile and gentle nature up on stage demands the talent and strength of an opera singer the gall of most world viewed presidents laying down or standing still mind woodchips all of my plans palms to the sky warm sun light reminds me that there is a God i’ve seen the death of my father dressed in blue he brought down by what he held up all of his life i’ve seen the death of my mother and the sting of unfamiliarity that divided us i alien child no umbilical cord on my feet walking slightly off smell of medicinal debauchery from last night peppers the air snippets sensationalized wishing shards of words empty whirling eddies of promise obscure delicacy is what i want when i want to be alone middle age was always middle age at any point in time imbibed in the yolks of many situations took on the foil as well as the queen as well as the beggar as well as a fiend feeding rats in the alley in the middle of the day with words that mean nothing but carry weight just the same i’ve seen too many coroners tents bottom line no one gives a fuck is the appropriate cause of death on the only certificate some of us will get privilege tells me to take some time trim my cherry tree smell the air inventory what i have and be grateful count the finches outside fighting on the bush that has a doctor and expensive fertilizer i want to tear my hair out at times rage knock over bureaucratic tables like Christ in Jerusalem

valium crash the news looks bad the ship has lost its hull

there are walnut trees on Pluto i think
crystal diamond blue
horizon upside down
center dividers stars in bloom
Ernest H waves from a black velvet bull nebula
shooting at gazelles in heat
downtown city hall fenced off from vagrant free radicals steady to explore
news of the day inner tubes
floating up the ice tundra
teeny tiny core
liquor stores
barbershop
bank building
bikini lounge
margaritas screaming opera loud
golden arches
chicken all militarized
taco toll
franchise whores
open for business
Pluto has one cherry tree
at dawn we read thee Book
thee Morning Star’s dead light
we shouldn’t tell those lies
could the gropers mashers and fiends
grandpa killers darlings of infallible machines (wink wink)
dare to go where print castrates them
Pluto tired just like us
rotates on her side
ferns and fossil bones fuel
glistening surface ice
Charon chases Papa like a Marx brother
down a Cuban blvd
Che comandante semper fi
make a left on Broadway
Pluto grows tomatoes
shipped to Mars
on backs of rain forest mamas

defcons and goddesses

there are yellow flowers honey sweet
butterflies floating in between 
the thorns stick it to the sky
moons on time every month
silver matte and happy
but me thinks now and again
of defcon one through five
911 Cuban crisis kept at bay
yet with clear blue  skies
hope
open enrollment
healthcare packages
named after heroes named
what difference does it do when little girls are getting maimed in mind body soul and spirit
today i watched and saw and read and talked to those who’ve climbed the ladders of success congratulations were in order
at the park the pecan squirrels were fed bits of corn and French bread crumbs
and when i turned my eyes to the west
tired with the wind that blows to burn
again i think of defcon one
and how since Lilith and the Eve
my kind has been regarded
but we’re still here with codes
of our own bestowed upon us
by the goddesses Grace Strength and
Thunder

Yu

engine speaks in tongues at times

pulls into the soul

stops dusty clotted roads

the time to move was now

like a parade

on protest days

green mile flowers

line the way

sun kisses face alone

under hood hoses roar

radio delivers telegrams

from simpler times

and long ago

trails like waiting mothers

daughter shacks lined down

their shack feet shoed with poppies

ruby slippers anti-Hollywood style

ghost maidens sell red berries

for crows atop the Joshua trees

for me to feed

can’t stand tall

only in awe

dream catch spider web

crystals for tiny arachnid queens

their king hides under the rocks

wind fingers my aging hair

cowlicks everywhere

magnetism from Her core

presses on my mouth

and leaves a score

locked in me

are secrets stored

warriors express on Her behalf

not because they deem Her less

but because She is too sacred

for this place where i come from

north beach

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