You are surely lost. The waiting room
Your birthday cake
Here, take this pill.
It knows Vladimir. It knows
communists of all nations. It says
kids everywhere love life. And intend
to love life beyond music beyond breath.
If the Russian comes by
at midnight in the rain, just say, hey, Vlad.
Poets are assholes, tender
lambs of electricity. They have
mouths of mind open to the tone-deaf wind and
a sweet smack of “Ah, thanx, I needed that.”
(Their hearts shine pure with the moon
and swim to Satin Island true as midnight sky pollution. )
Oh to have birds cooing
bells ringing tofu frying and unusually
high energy levels!
To feel that stealthy familiar of a new poem coming up mechanical on the clank machine!
It carries you through a wall.
It knows just what you mean.
She didn’t say anything
I hadn’t heard. I had a gram
of her in my mouth.
The dawn is emotions so she and I went
purely physical, spinning on one toe
in damp sand, the stars slipping yellow & knifing
out a place in us.
our place &
there we slept,
She said the thoughts
on my face saw me
and that I winced too often.
Her advice gave me
the mountains and a flight path.
(It’s a dirty dawn
the pink spark
of Santa Monica,
a light of sweet yawns, slow,
a dog cloud
another life to know.)
in a town with only one payroll.
Did you know
knew this town
Joe knows it’s flat.
with potholes and
two sons of no
ones. It’s scrubbed. Everyone is loose-
Joe knows there’s no place to go,
so he digs in. Forgets up. He holds
steady, keeps his soul resident, solid,
as closed space is open.