Still More Poetry


Symphony

You wanna hear
a song of
despair
then listen
to this
homeless guy who just
bought a 40 oz.
bottle of Schlitz Malt
Liquor
with the last bit of
change he spent
the whole day begging
from strangers
watch as the bottle slips
from his shaking hands before
he's even had a slug
watch his disbelieving
eyes as the bottle breaks
on the dirty
concrete
the contents flowing like
little rivers through the cracks
into the gutter
listen
to the animal noise
that comes up through
his broken lungs
man
can that old boy
howl.


 Some Truths

They say you're nothing
but a
self
serving
manipulative
unattractive
whore
with dumb
face
crooked
mouth
&
heart of
cardboard.

I say your drunken
laughter at
3 a.m.
is more beautiful
than god.

They are right
and I am right.

I buy you another drink with the
understanding

that some truths
matter more

than others.


 The World

The world is not much.
If you've nothing better
to do
say
on a sunday
afternoon
you can watch
how easily it
comes apart
in your hands
breaks into
sharp and ugly
little
pieces
and
if you're still bored you can
pick one up and
care a message to yourself
deep
beneath the skin
wait a bit and see
if you still remember
how to
bleed.


 Your Mouth Speaks Words

Your mouth speaks words like
right and wrong
good and evil
and other such
rot

(I had
thought we were beyond
all that)

but your eyes and your
hands and your legs and the
rest of you

speak a different language
altogether
as old as time
with its own logic
impossible
to refute

and what kind of fool
would want to?


 A Statement On Myself, or Modern Art, or Both...

I went to the
San Francisco
Museum
of Modern
Art
and spent more time
looking
at the women
than I did
at the pictures
on the walls.


 Caught

Caught in this
life
like an animal
in the meanest
of traps
desperate
for a way
out
other than the
obvious
one.


 Trade

I would trade
all of my poems

for one
moment of your
drunken laughter.

I'm
serious.


[Home] [Still More Poetry???] [Fiction] [News] [Bio] [Links]