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.