these thoughts…
come-n-go…
end this…
give-up…
move…
‘nother town…
country…
heaven or hell…
just go…
wait…
tired of weight…
dreadful poetics…cliches…
too much…
life…
growth…wanting…
what…what…
something new….
yes…
something new…
Category: Uncategorized
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you look-out onto far away lights…ballparks where kids play….parking lots for salesmen and secretaries…suburban homes with smells of meatloaf…jars of sauerkraut…whispers in the dark…
see these bridges over Potomac…Deleware…Ohio…boats afloat a murky water…roads traveled by vagabonds…truckers enroute from coast to coast…families in search of america…keep looking…
small town after small town…turning the jaded into romantics…thoughts of first springs…endless eves…a dew the next morn…what was her name…what was her name…
the haunting of nothing…to see nothing but black in this endless night…vision limited…
wait for sunlight…just wait…
been a long night…
‘m scared….
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row house after row house….
colors preaching…purple hues…deep sage…olive…tales of old…bought with new money…
wooden doors…brass antiquities….
this town….this town…Irish bars….lads with brogues…whiskey distilled…
smells of fish and chips…malted vinegar…a gal with emerald eyes….
there’s a smile…tis statues and monuments…
animals on recess…
hills to make you cry…
feet worn-out by mid-morn…sounds of poverty…
can ya’ help ah’ brother out…
take home given to a woman of the streets…
that is all she’s been given…and the dome shines on us all…
it shines….
it shines… -
national harbor…
our nation in it’s finest hour…
celebration of commerce…
cards ready…go forth and make america great…again….?
spend…spend…spend on corporate bbq…overly roasted coffee…craft this…craft that…hey kids…craft you…
uber sensitive boys…bearded ladies with hair buns waltzing to Muzak from one plastic statue to the next…a maze of shopping mall mutants awaiting a messiah worthy of platinum gold…
buy now and we’ll send….
for in this built-up overly commercial construct a small truth lies…the bigger the better…with drops of efficiency added…climaxing into nothing lasts forever philosophies…is our forte…
and we are good at it….
make america great…again….?
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see I’m a felon…,the stick figure spoke into his Obama phone…,and she knows that…knows can’t be ‘ round no drugs…,loud whispers…
thinkin’ ‘m bein’ set-up…somebody wants my ass again…,swinging a left leg over his right…,why do people persecute me…know I’m weak…all fucked-up…
watch your language…,the black lady bus driver said…,sir…sir…
‘m sorry….real sorry…,took out a wad of gum…placed it on the bottom of his Chuck Taylor’s…,tellin’ ya’ can’t take this no more…all this runnin’ ’round in the dark…what’re we doin’…fuck that…
sir…sir…
I gots to go…gots ta’…
sir you get off this bus now…
yes ma’am…i won’t let happen again…
damn right…
sorry…
betta’ be…
well I am…
just sit down…
next stop South Calhoun….
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these things you’re saying…
yes…
puts me where…
what…
what fruits will they produce…
well…
you sit there…tellin’ me with a straight face…’bout some kinda’ miracle deal…some kinda’ new stock option that’ll turn my piss ta’ pralines and ‘spect me ta’ buy this…
look…all I’m sayin’ is things can be worked out where you….
would what…with what…got nothin’
would’t need anything…that’s the beauty of this thing…
this thing…what thing…I see no fucking thing…
there is no-thing…
nothing…
nothing…you’re investing in nothing…with nothing…and getting a lot of something…you fuck….
huh…
pass the salt….
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saw her standing on a sidewalk by the bodega over on 1st Avenue…wasn’t waiting for the bus…nor anything in-particular…didn’t think…didn’t think…
first two buttons on her tight-fitting blouse were undone…a red top to match part of her hair…colors of red…purple…streaks of gray…swirling ’round on her head in a bouffant…looked like a calliope…she was laughing…
eyes were covered by sunglasses…big black dark sunglasses…what eyes were behind those…green…blue…hazel…that she would not reveal…
watched her undo another button…exposing a black laced bra covering tanning bed tanned breasts…small…delicate…she wanted to show all…
so…she took off the shirt…and unzipped her sage skirt…to reveal….to reveal…
her manhood….
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saw you looking…
could tell…
up ta’ no good…
often…
seduced in times of loneliness…heart weak…soul sends out heat-seeking waves…
flying o’er Manhattan…Chicago…Philly…D.C. …Albuquerque…Saigon…SoHo…ga-zing at love…hoping…wishing for love…
at jazz joints played in b- flat…Irish pubs along 1st…Jew-town among Maxwell Polish’ an’ greasy bags o’ fries…blues bars where poor blacks wail while white kids nod their heads…
love come…
without malice…please…no tricks…where are you hiding…
1…2….3…
come-out…come- out…wherever you are…
here i come…
love…
come-out…
i hear you…
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she used to yell ’bout my drinking…fast-paced simple sentences rattled-off ’bout my drinking…
and money was spent on booze…bar-tabs carried over from month to month…countless calls for collateral…hawking watches…rings…albums…laptops…she would yell ’bout my drinking…
blame it on the moon…that hollow sphere we’ve all been intoxicated-by…question blury ghosts down the halls of old tennant buildings having called out my name….argue with the north star for leading me astray… i was never a wise-man…
she used to yell ’bout my drinking…talks of wasted life…accusations of induced poetry…outside influences damaging my soul…,write pure, she said,…write pure,….
she used to yell ’bout my drinking…
she used to yell ’bout my drinking…
shhhhh….
too loud…
shhhhh…
stop it already…
shhhhh…
O.K. …
and solace gives us what…
she used to yell ’bout my drinking…
midnight strolls…through the Bronx…hangin’ with homeboys at Hunts Point…throwin’ darts down on 1st…throwing-up yesterday’s meatloaf…sins were confessed…in the name of the Father…the Son…and the Holy Spook…
where’s my sword…oh…through me…through me…
she used…
she…
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did she love you…
pick you up on drunken nights when to live anymore was too worry- some a thought…
did she love you…
shuffling down city streets in search of this bill to pay that bill replacing an old bill after those bills became a new bill…for one low cost payment…
did she love you…
in days pacing up-n-down corridors…halls at Bellevue…calls… visits…pizza brought in a box with green…white…an’ red lettering…
did she love you…
days roving ’round countrysides without a dime…sleeping under bridges…hidden behind humanity’s parade…in search of…what…
nothing…not a note…an overnight Western Union…greetings nor salutations…
did she love you…and you toiled for what…
love…love…
did she love you…
mine neither….
dmseay 