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  • Category: Poems


    i haven’t presented a poem for a while, and as it is a sunny Fourth of July weekend here in new york, i figured this gentleman would do.  this entry is section 1 of a longer poem, as you can prolly see from the title. i thought it a bit much to post all of it here, but let me know if you feel differently. cheers and enjoy the celebrations…

    2009.05.01 – night 1

    i act like a monkey
    and can’t control myself,
    orange tulip petals on everything.

    i burnt down the brooklyn bridge
    then climbed up the charred concrete remains
    and read ginsberg’s kaddish from the top,
    but i got bored after one line and stopped.

    the mississippi can’t make up her mind.
    why won’t she die already?
    ryan adams can go fuck himself.

    i miss sitting in the center seat of the canoe,
    i miss slow mornings that last for weeks.

    what if i lose my fingers or my precious feet!
    some girl’s eyes make me want to leap
    through the closest window and the come
    down drowns my saning mind.

    photo by Thomas Hawk

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    to lee: 2006.11.28 00:50

    the bees are dying now. i can see them dropping out of the air – no carefully designed spiral descents for them – no no – i follow the bees with my eyes from the wall to an invisible poison sphere hanging a foot away and then shes and hes dive down down down – kamikazes attacking my precious feet! i’m careful not to step on them. not careful enough. all my honey jars are growing hideous fungi – even my sacred tupelo reserves. there’s no one left to serve me my sweet things – i walk outside and wash my eyelids in the abandoned combs and their failed children. perhaps death shall offer no boundary as i absorb the shining golden recipe straight from the tomb.

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