Love poem 122,345,879,398,964...........
Of course the night pushes past me trailing
Her dark blue gown, studded dimonds
over and over and over
Of course the night’s sharpened obsidian heart
Dissected me alive
over and over and over
Of course the night is its own mother,
giving birth to her-self
Over and over and over
And I am an old man with
Little left to say
Of course I am in love with you
Because you stay soft forever
Because you stay young forever
Because you dance naked in front of the fireplace
forever
Because the tip of your nose and ears blush in the heat forever and i
Wind down like the stars’ great clockwork
But you, my love, and the night
Cover me
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
this is not a poem
This is not a poem
All that shit you sweat
All that shit you play so close
All that shit you run after run after run after
All that shit you dream to cop
Its all burning, like your body
All that shit you jock
All that shit you covet
All that, its all burning, like your body,
Falling, falling, falling, to dust
Like everything you hold dear
All that shit you need
Need it so deep down it hurts
So that you give your life to it
It’s all burning, like your body, falling, falling, falling
You tell me, what is life for
Where have we been, what have we done,
Name something good you did, between struggling for garbage
Struggling for garbage, all of it burning like all of us
Burning
You don’t need any of the things
You think are so damn important
And they end up owning you.
All that shit you sweat
All that shit you play so close
All that shit you run after run after run after
All that shit you dream to cop
Its all burning, like your body
All that shit you jock
All that shit you covet
All that, its all burning, like your body,
Falling, falling, falling, to dust
Like everything you hold dear
All that shit you need
Need it so deep down it hurts
So that you give your life to it
It’s all burning, like your body, falling, falling, falling
You tell me, what is life for
Where have we been, what have we done,
Name something good you did, between struggling for garbage
Struggling for garbage, all of it burning like all of us
Burning
You don’t need any of the things
You think are so damn important
And they end up owning you.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Litmus Test (Cleaned up 1)
Litmus test.
Dylan was the strangest red neck I had ever met. He wasn’t really a red neck, he was just poor, white, and lived in the country, outside Woodville. I used tota go over there quite a bit and get drunk with him. His wife and kids were gone, and he was on disability on account of falling off a stack at the paper mill, so he had alota lot ofta time to just drink and do whatever.
And he did have a lot. He had all sorts of hobby’shobbies. He made weird stuff out ofa car parts and discarded mechanical shit. I guess you could call it art, but it moved too. His weird contraptions didn’t do anything, I mean nothing practical, they just sort of turned gears and pulleys and belched smoke or popped or some blew air horns like on a train, all sorts of crazy shittuff. Most people in town thought he was nuts. Well, I guess he sort ofa was. But I’d rather be that kind of nuts, than the kind of nuts those dumb fuckers at school and church seemed likemore than half the time.
I felt like I could talk to Dylan about stuff I would never tell my grandparents, who I lived with. I mean we could talk about sex and girls and getting fucked up, and the sort of stuff I wanted to do with my self later in life, and what college was like, and how fucked up religion seemeds, and some politics, and all that. He was a smart guy and read a lot, and I liked to hear his opinions whichopinions, which seemed far removed from most what I had heard from most folks about this kind of stuff. He had lots of books and he wouldoften let me take them home. I’d read them and then we’d talk about them.
One book, called The Dirty One was full of sex stuff, most of it between dudes. Well, I was pretty shocked at first, but after reading it for a bit, and getting past my initial uneasiness I felt sort of turned on by it. Well, actually I’m lying, I felt reallyREAL turned on, and I won’t tell you what it led me to do, but I will tell you I felt ashamed and sort of sick and confused after I did it. I tried not to think about it and when I did I felt scarred.
So I brought the book back to him after only a few days. I just put it back on his shelf so he didn’t see. A few days later we were drinking beer and he asked me how did I liked it, and ifdid I had read it through to the end. And I told him I didn’t have time for it, so just brought it back. Then he started talking about the stories in it, real frankly, real openly, and I got uncomfortable but I was surprised by how open he was. Well, I asked him what he thought about gay people. I had never considered the question I guess, well, that is until I read that book. Everybody always talks about it like it’s such a terrible thing and it’s the worst thing and all that, so I just sort of accepted that, and that’s why I felt so terrible about doing what I did after readingto that book. But before that day, I never much paid it any attention to gays.
Daryl just said that they had the right to do whatever, and that it wasn’t anyone’s no bodys business if they did, and that life was too short to miss out on fucking with whoever you like. He also said that lots of the people who are really pissed off about people being gay, the ones who make a big deal out of it at school or church or on the TV and all, they might want to be a little gay them selfvess. He said that lots of people are a little gay.
I said, “How are you a little gay, but not all the way gay?”
He took a long drink of beer, lit a cigarette, and paused.
I said, “Well?”
Daryl looked over at me and said, “Wwell this is what I think, but I might be wrong. The difference between being bi, or part gay, and all the way gay, is if you like just guys and not girls. But if you do like guys, you still might not want to go all the way. I mean you know , do all the things they talked about in that book. If that’s the case case, Youyou might want to do some of them, but not all of them. And anyway, you might be in love with another man and want to do it sort of for him, but not really. Some people say you got to like to be fucked in the ass. I can’t imagine anyone liking that much. Talk about pain! Goddamn, feels like your being split in two, can’t hardly stand it…..”it…”He stopped in mid in dead sentence.
“So how do you know if you’rer gay, I mean how? Are you saying gay guys
are the only ones who go all the way?”
He took another drink, and looked up at the cellingceiling, “Hhell I don’t know, well anyway it don’t matter, people is people, and gay, not gay, part gay, whatever, it don’t matter. It’s all just names. And poplepeople of both sexes can be beautiful to look at and fun to be with. But I’ll tell you anyway, seems to me if you want to know if your all gay or not, I mean if you ever question it, try getting fucked in the ass, then you’ll know, Jesusueeeeezus, now that’s dedication.”
I decided to leave it at that.
Dylan was the strangest red neck I had ever met. He wasn’t really a red neck, he was just poor, white, and lived in the country, outside Woodville. I used tota go over there quite a bit and get drunk with him. His wife and kids were gone, and he was on disability on account of falling off a stack at the paper mill, so he had alota lot ofta time to just drink and do whatever.
And he did have a lot. He had all sorts of hobby’shobbies. He made weird stuff out ofa car parts and discarded mechanical shit. I guess you could call it art, but it moved too. His weird contraptions didn’t do anything, I mean nothing practical, they just sort of turned gears and pulleys and belched smoke or popped or some blew air horns like on a train, all sorts of crazy shittuff. Most people in town thought he was nuts. Well, I guess he sort ofa was. But I’d rather be that kind of nuts, than the kind of nuts those dumb fuckers at school and church seemed likemore than half the time.
I felt like I could talk to Dylan about stuff I would never tell my grandparents, who I lived with. I mean we could talk about sex and girls and getting fucked up, and the sort of stuff I wanted to do with my self later in life, and what college was like, and how fucked up religion seemeds, and some politics, and all that. He was a smart guy and read a lot, and I liked to hear his opinions whichopinions, which seemed far removed from most what I had heard from most folks about this kind of stuff. He had lots of books and he wouldoften let me take them home. I’d read them and then we’d talk about them.
One book, called The Dirty One was full of sex stuff, most of it between dudes. Well, I was pretty shocked at first, but after reading it for a bit, and getting past my initial uneasiness I felt sort of turned on by it. Well, actually I’m lying, I felt reallyREAL turned on, and I won’t tell you what it led me to do, but I will tell you I felt ashamed and sort of sick and confused after I did it. I tried not to think about it and when I did I felt scarred.
So I brought the book back to him after only a few days. I just put it back on his shelf so he didn’t see. A few days later we were drinking beer and he asked me how did I liked it, and ifdid I had read it through to the end. And I told him I didn’t have time for it, so just brought it back. Then he started talking about the stories in it, real frankly, real openly, and I got uncomfortable but I was surprised by how open he was. Well, I asked him what he thought about gay people. I had never considered the question I guess, well, that is until I read that book. Everybody always talks about it like it’s such a terrible thing and it’s the worst thing and all that, so I just sort of accepted that, and that’s why I felt so terrible about doing what I did after readingto that book. But before that day, I never much paid it any attention to gays.
Daryl just said that they had the right to do whatever, and that it wasn’t anyone’s no bodys business if they did, and that life was too short to miss out on fucking with whoever you like. He also said that lots of the people who are really pissed off about people being gay, the ones who make a big deal out of it at school or church or on the TV and all, they might want to be a little gay them selfvess. He said that lots of people are a little gay.
I said, “How are you a little gay, but not all the way gay?”
He took a long drink of beer, lit a cigarette, and paused.
I said, “Well?”
Daryl looked over at me and said, “Wwell this is what I think, but I might be wrong. The difference between being bi, or part gay, and all the way gay, is if you like just guys and not girls. But if you do like guys, you still might not want to go all the way. I mean you know , do all the things they talked about in that book. If that’s the case case, Youyou might want to do some of them, but not all of them. And anyway, you might be in love with another man and want to do it sort of for him, but not really. Some people say you got to like to be fucked in the ass. I can’t imagine anyone liking that much. Talk about pain! Goddamn, feels like your being split in two, can’t hardly stand it…..”it…”He stopped in mid in dead sentence.
“So how do you know if you’rer gay, I mean how? Are you saying gay guys
are the only ones who go all the way?”
He took another drink, and looked up at the cellingceiling, “Hhell I don’t know, well anyway it don’t matter, people is people, and gay, not gay, part gay, whatever, it don’t matter. It’s all just names. And poplepeople of both sexes can be beautiful to look at and fun to be with. But I’ll tell you anyway, seems to me if you want to know if your all gay or not, I mean if you ever question it, try getting fucked in the ass, then you’ll know, Jesusueeeeezus, now that’s dedication.”
I decided to leave it at that.
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