love analysis walk not today think no high loss death paleness cold worlds space out red rock left alone to live and go the cross road upside down fire take soul nourish climb to fall don’t go too field desert kill black thorny the rain dog to the river frustrated mouse to not turn around in blue the cheek has fallen blazing hades in the snow afar Tibet monkey fog tonight a kiss the fall into the mind around Saturn in the vision pantheon neon grey the gross frog lady bird dance in the buffalo crawl to the address in the summer soot the rot of hot music lung ruby in life around thorny ring to the kiss of the foot how the pod can canker the brain storm drain courage of stripe pink to stop not to yield asunder for flat and revolver to plead the clowns of agony of flower pause to burn the heart in line of love
DTLA
flickering light
no space to contain this fear without the barriers it spills over to all the sides no phosphorescent mother there to catch no father to teach the scintillant way in the dark vulnerable to clichés and warnings and the debility of all that is to come and to suffer all that has passed by in the backwards of time to stoop over rotten corpses writhing in the dark of their own making in the tallest buildings to the bottom of the last sewer there i am locked away un-oxygenated still passing through the underground to someday explode into a frozen river of life that is encrypted with the secrets that have lost the wonder on the back of one man
her
the fat of the land has dried into grime
mere clots of spit and mire
under her instant foot in the vomit of the day
the sour milkiness of death’s redolence at night
grabbing at the air grabbing at the sights of
those who have always been there and those
who are to come
shifting in the seas of traffic lights
half-moon eyes bloody in the tides
of discarded discontent
the wind howls on the sills of justice
kissing painfully the wounds on her hand
as puckered resentful coins hiss at her disposition
the wheels of the gods grind on
and her island there waits
the laughing air and the scornful heat
injures her every pore; her pancaked gowns threadbare
smiling at the visions only seen by those who know
the devil and the angels roaming up and down the hill of somber perfection
host to condemnation of heavy hearted posts
vigilant to nothing
in the bell jars of our age
nothing ferments nothing grows
the heart in her breaks the barrier
knowing that she will see some light
the golden days have passed onto a future
waiting there like cats
old castles for her flowers and her stars
beauty melting unto asphalt
a stairway opens up with gems of cardboard
sprigs of wasted love litter her alcove
she lays her head to rest
to William S Burroughs
in the cosmos
there’s always a math.
one vein to feel it all.
at the Bowery something started,
a nest for a vulture’s egg
that saved a world.
beloved that you are to many
more who can receive.
pain can come to anyone
i know you and you know me.
time at the tip of a barrel.
time at the tip of a pen.
can you see through the
fog of eternity and the sands
in the raw?
so vulnerable and delicate
to love of no despair.
one more tonic for the body
at last my love can rest.
morning ritual
gold rush on broadway
sipping my coffee watching
we lock eyes and smile
steam rises from grids
reach into the garbage can
and you look upward
again we lock eyes
rays of light pierce the shadows
you leave and i sip
downtown breeze
then one more time
she comes, tip toes like a
hunger on the Hill St. bridge
but does not offer her love pang to me
orphaned i stand of the
ideals i’ve had
for ever it seems
she enters and
leaves unimpressed
as always
5 spot m
brown pigeons crap on the hollow sidewalk
the old Chinese woman waves her hand
wills their Jackson Pollock orchestrations
by feeding them week aged beef stir fried fare
the gin and tonic mixture of my youth
roughly flows through decrepit portal veins
fifty-year old girl tells me what she wants
easy with my ductus deferens
sip a drink of shame no olive in sight
politely decline her proposition
of five spot love while i wonder away
from Magdalene of little Italy
strolling towards the ragazzo mios
void of all holy penance in this world
briscula my only love lady fair
death walks quickly on J Pershing square
Zanja Madre
i don’t like the water
although i miss the womb of my earth
my mother’s womb was dark and cold
pulled out dragged down
i long for primordial comfort
the safety of the sky is no longer priceless
the desert is warm at dusk
and the moon smiles her face down at me
as if pointing a finger
lost at the root i stand
without a ground
but i am not holy
little life big sorrow
the weights are against me
the lake of green is kept
by fire of angels
which i don’t understand
looking with no eyeballs
like Teresa
the dandelions are long gone
Metropolitana
i had not taken notice
that there were no flies
in that lobby
the mail slots are still there
the supernatural tungsten charm of
Bogey cigars and cancer
i can smell the sordid gardenias
when did nature go so wrong
and i can see the nylons and
the hats waiting for a call
i sometimes feel that in
1923 on a rainy day
i took a bottle of pills
ladies were dainty
even then
Bogey never waited in the
silk upholstered chair
for a girl named Gina
or a Midwesterner
called Claire
as a matter of fact
if you must know
my business mac
i have only passed by the glass
guarding this lobby on the way
to nothing more
Mother Harriet
Mother Harriet
eyes determined for freedom
hands of guiding light
sojourning through our city
at long last i feel your might
words less spoken 