While Searching For God Or A Chemical Substitute 1. It's not easy to be a failure. You have to work at it every day. There was a time when I thought highly of myself. The world did not agree. Now, I agree with the world. There is no reason to be out of step any more. There's plenty of dog shit to walk in which ever way you go. 2. Walking down Broad Street, the city has changed so much. I no longer recognize it, yet I have lived here all my life. Maybe I should get out more. 3. I used to mock punks getting stoned and raising mayhem, not anymore. Why criticize those who burn their candles at both ends? At least their light will burn a little brighter before it goes out like the rest. I've been to funerals of friends who burned out by age 30. Life ends at 30, or don't you remember? I know others in AA, some who came clean, bought the house, took the mortgage, but I prefer the company of those who never grew up, angry men and wreckless women, pot bellied now, but, oh! so alive.
Rocky His first wife died of over inflation. His second died from a pin prick. His current wife is cold, hard and made of granite. Hey, some relationships are made to last. He just keeps chipping away.
rulers and the ruled one eyed kings on street corners tell it like it is yet their kingdoms and subjects ruled remain small, a flock of fools and hoodlums fighting boredom and poverty with beer and needles ruthless vengeful quick with a trigger but one day their kingdom falls, the space between the curb and the gutter gains a new emperor, a new empire new jesters prance for a pipe, new princess dance under the street light and so it goes until the end of time there's no shortage of crooks or fools or desperate minds in desperate times.
Living In The Grave after midnight, with the children finally asleep, the wife and in-laws lost in snores, I finally have a few moments to read, write before I pass out.
After The Revolution reading about how wonderful it is behind the iron curtain with 40 years hindsight laughing the author out of his grave, I wonder where the paid hacks of the Power of yesteryear have gone. the old college radicals with their lines of praise sound off key, while the radicalized hacks of today dream of the Second Coming of Socialism, forgetting there's no virtue in any institution, only in individual hearts with nothing better to go by. To the radicals, all I can say is watch CCTV for four months like I did before you blow your head off.
Apology To My Lover I love you as much As my cock will allow. I can't help if it is blind. It feels its way along, Happy with the first hole It slides into.
Trailblazer -- For Kenneth Koch 1. Trail blazers cut down the trees and make a path that leads somewhere, but not necessarily where they were trying to go. 2. Others followed, built cities in the wilderness. 3. What path is this I have set upon? What path is this that you have followed? 4. Afterwards, some people missed the trees. 5. Some people haven't noticed the trees are missing. 6. It all ends the same. That's nothing new. All roads lead to Rome. All poetry obscures the obvious, or makes it more so.
at the massive reading where hundreds ranted one after another, the great looking poets read poorly, or read poor work. The ugly poets read better or had better stuff. But, at the end the beautiful left with their beautiful fans, and the ugly poets left with their memories and unsold books.