A yellow circus left the stakes.
Broken ropes. Useless mug.
The ties that bind, ha ha!
I can be bad poet, street poet, shit poet, kind poet too.
Subway. Almost 4 AM. Halloween night.
Had enough to drink to make my own party.
All my fellow writers in half costume, half asleep, half silly, gone to seed.
I don't mark my time with dates, holidays, faith, wisdom, luck, karma, whatever's convenient.
I am made by my times, I am a creation of now, shaken with the cracks and crevices.
I am not giving up easy, I will not fold, I don't have much but what I have is gold.
I saw your face,
you drift in snow,
and I drift in snow...
I sing in platinum, I dress in brass, I eat in zinc -let it pass.
Campari toast -I like that! I understand courage.
I still roll with the shout of a character I was married to today.
I try to see outside myself. I understand the eyes, excuse all the highs -"Sorry, I am sorry", ha ha!
Boy at Berlin,
I like your face.
Naked and blue.
Breathing with you.
I like you, love you, every coast of you.
I've seen your eddies and tides and hurricanes and cyclones.
Low ebb tide and high full moon. Up close and distant.
I need you with the sky, the sea, the ocean, the sun, the moon.
Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue...
Naked and blue.
Breathing with you. Touch. Change. Shift. Allow air. Window open. Drift, drift away, into now.
I want Whitman proud. Patti Lee proud. My brothers proud. My sisters proud.
I want me. I want it all. I want sensational. Irresistible.
This is my time and I am thrilled to be alive.
Living, blessed, I understand... twentieth century, collapse into now!
Cinderella-boy you lost your shoe. (blue, blue, blue, blue...)
Cinderella-boy your coach awaits. (blue, blue, blue, blue...)
The sun it shines all over your place (blue, blue, blue, blue...)
as you seed, naked and blue, into me.
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