Prayer In Bad Weather
by God, I don’t know what to Do. They’re so nice to have around. They have a way of playing with The balls And looking at the cock very Seriously Turning it Tweeking it
The Worst And The Best
in the hospitals and jails It’s the worst In madhouses It’s the worst In penthouses It’s the worst In skid row flophouses It’s the worst At poetry readings At rock concerts At benefits for
Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window
Sunday, I am eating a Grapefruit, church is over at the Russian Orthadox to the West. She is dark Of Eastern descent, Large brown eyes look up from the Bible Then down. a small
Like A Flower In The Rain
I cut the middle fingernail of the middle Finger Right hand Real short And I began rubbing along her cunt As she sat upright in bed Spreading lotion over her arms Face And breasts
The Shower
we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) And her face is always soft and peaceful And she’ll watch me first Spread the soap over my balls Lift the balls
The Poetry Reading
at high noon At a small college near the beach Sober The sweat running down my arms A spot of sweat on the table I flatten it with my finger Blood money blood money
Trapped
don’t undress my love You might find a mannequin: Don’t undress the mannequin You might find My love. She’s long ago Forgotten me. She’s trying on a new Hat And looks more the Coquette
These Things
these things that we support most well Have nothing to do with up, And we do with them Out of boredom or fear or money Or cracked intelligence; Our circle and our candle of
Poem For My 43rd Birthday
To end up alone In a tomb of a room Without cigarettes Or wine Just a lightbulb And a potbelly, Grayhaired, And glad to have The room. …in the morning They’re out there Making
16-bit Intel 8088 chip
with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and
Bluebird
there’s a bluebird in my heart that Wants to get out But I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going To let anybody see You. There’s a bluebird in
Question And Answer
he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer night, running the blade of the knife under his fingernails, smiling, thinking of all the letters he had received telling him that the way
I Met A Genius
I met a genius on the train Today About 6 years old, He sat beside me And as the train Ran down along the coast We came to the ocean And then he looked
Gamblers All
sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside Remembering all the times you’ve felt that way, and You walk to
What A Writer
what i liked about e. e. cummings Was that he cut away from The holiness of the Word And with charm And gamble Gave us lines That sliced through the Dung. How it was