Sunday, May 13, 2012

the posh lawned isles
don't daunt me
but scare the paper rich
cooped behind wall hedges
eyes closed

my street tonight hosts
a dead drunk middle aged woman
whistlin at me across the street
as her neighbor
circles a fatboy in his backyard
and i lean against my ragtop
on the same blacktop
i did thirty years ago
and little separating us

for my best pal
lived in a  plex
and i on a river
a bike ride between
on the way
to the same classroom
and the same girls

p'ing off the upstairs porch
a purple green humbird
came straight up
staring at me
stopped and looked
me straight in the eye
with reptilian superiority
cocked his head
and veered to the right
in a perfect line
snatching insects in mid air

it was grand white
moon star lites

cuz all the roads lead to me

draping the brothel
in a commune of antipopes
squatting with grapes
and the moon
Paul stares at us
with a eye in blue
i am here
i paint this
and you a watcher
wearing your mask
filled with angles
peep at our fates