9
water under the bridge, in the well, swell
good enough when I was all but your doormat
so close to the fire, being myself, do tell
telepathic—teleportation—talent, at that
don’t get black out drunk—scary as the dickens
not being able to remember what He did,
ghost stories coming from the pig pens
murder the angel, if you can, with safety pins. stabbed with a toothbrush, in my mind’s eye, Norway-blond, what dark night do you spy? I’m here, Lucifer, smacked you with a glove - His duel continues so long as we’re here
what are you touching? what do you know? am I lying to myself—or exchanging information across time and space? Simultaneous existence through the loop—tip-toeing my way around on mother’s day, this day of all days, I’m coming for you, sweetheart, let’s make it stick
paper towels spilling out of my pocket,
true love—Norway-blond, what if I had
a tiny dick? then i’d be serious as of yet
when letting people in my life, a tad
lonesome the tradeoff for the filter i bless
saving me loads of time, a divorce, i think,
using my open hand to enforce her duress
i am the prince that can’t stand to blink
for fear I’ll miss out—close up of a toilet,
here, here, age old friend. shifting gears
my Norway-blond is in arrears, what, yet
will keep you entertained? Loving cheers
on the healthy, wealthy, and the insane
i don’t condone violence, not at all, friend
i think, in heaven, we feel a degree of pain
as the suffering of some comes to an end
everyone combines into my family tree
don’t think, however, that we’re all equal
structure to the universe, structure of me,
i make it true by doing it—counsel
the damned; ease our troubles as we grieve
the realization we don’t converge
when, unbeknownst to us, we don’t achieve
what, to no certainty, would make us merge
heaven—rocking on, rocking chair, silly
to think: a slew of people, kid, that make
up our soul; treat them well and happily
for, if you protest, they’ll come in on the take
asking sweet Jesus to recount His fame
write a great book so we can be light as air,
i reach out to some, but they feel no shame
drinking themselves drunk to screw the au pair
take a knee, Christian soldier—all war, at once, must come to an end; He was down here crying, so what do we do? Sniff methamphetamines and let the “cleaning” begin? that’s all, in our minds, that we were doing;
double down—Jewish master; no friend to Israel; i welcome, instead, the diaspora, given, as they are, to improving their community: down with the despot, Netanyahu protested a little too much; a little Hitler, kid, that loved us so much . . . ha ha ha this is not so funny, saving that it is
never liked Jews anyhow, since they took over showbiz, psych—allow me to correct myself; i can’t judge a group of people based on the actions of one man among them—and i won’t, do tell, do you feel my shame?
at the bottom of the stairs, coming this way, huffing and puffing, i don’t have the wind to do this today: Now, when it comes to sex, what can I say? we tell each other, don’t we, where we stand? when the lust in us gets out of hand? Or is it the other way around?