two poems...
...each written a few weeks ago.
4:23 a.m., hollywood and nichols canyon
At some point late nite we broke the table in two, the weight of it
and the lines cut deep to something,
a sort of bone-dry breathlessness I’d never been before
I tell you
The raging love of life won't get me on my feet this time
I sit here good and I ain’t moving
You’re so bloody full of lies I can smell it
but I don't care, oh well, whatever--
I'll buy it all.
And if we run and run in circles, well,
I ain’t never tried it, so let me run deeper in this track...
--- --- ---
for cheney
Baby, you’re a hothouse flower,
Raging, tigerclaws and filthy grinning eyes,
a spoiled and growling kind of clawing at the space between our feet--
interstellar and vast, it is and
the poetry of your crumpled and sliding speech patterns mystifies me,
are you some sorta code
you simple little conundrum puppydogeyed sinister and darlin,
I don't trust you any farther than I can throw you, no
I dunno what to make of you but
a painting dripped and violently splattered, running
down my wrists to congeal at my toes, lovely and sublime
musical almost,--
you’ve got the
weirdest ways of saying things--
so lovely
your pretty wicked face,
and me
I'm a sucker
posted at 11:02 PM