I couldn't believe it
I found myself arguing with him again
Hell I thought we'd been over it. But I felt like saying MAN...
Peaceable stars flit among national anxieties
Of dogmas, karmas, taboos, yogis and bewildered nothing- ers
Who come and who go farther than the eye can see
He
She
It
Nobody
or may be
Someone
What is its name
thats that thing I want
that thing you have and just wont give it
Over to me
Maybe we can strike a deal
He says "Forget it Joe, are you insane?
I talked to the guy yesterday and he said it wouldn't be in till tomorrow.
So go fuck yourself and get Mary to send it via post. You know fucking snail mail... and Ill expect it early Monday AM
Other than that screw it
You have to deal with things as they come and just dodge the insane humanitarian act of benevolence thats out of our reach.
You and that guy Manny, you've got the same problem...You're both hiding out in this insane thought that its gonna work out for you- But me???? Hell my Mama drove it to me like nails, drove it so deep I ever forgot, like Jesus or something, I learned to walk on water- But you know the water we walk on just isn't the fucking same as it was BC and all that.
Water today is like blood, and if you don't know where to fish- you're a dead
man. , So gimme a chance and I ll blow you some cash on Monday after that thing from Mary gets here. Fuck you other wise, I cant spare you my time and much less dead hands on deck off a car crash or some shit like that".

He hangs up..what am I going to say to someone as bull headed as that??? Do I even care? Of course there is reason in alot of what he said, Mary?? Are you kidding? I have to ask nailpainted, hairspray oozing, ever ready Mary for this one. I feel like it was only tree minutes ago I asked her for the last favor and It took too damn long to escape her sweet and well meant chit fucking chat, save me the Chinese torture thing, its Friday...blow me...why is the siren sounding??

Faithful

To the age of your disguise
to your lips and to your thighs
No whisper deeper no tone depends
To the haste of invitation
to your name of hesitation
No breath compares no sound offends
To the touch of your forgiving
to your words in me still living
No faint and unknown jest to the
heart
upon my breast

ब्लड ओं ६६

There is always blood on 66
Route to or from
Dont matter no
Especially in spring
When trying to cross
There is no fostered
continuation of life
My wheels as black as the sky
The moon as high as
My wine
Men been crowing like roosters
primping feathers
Strutting me up
My hips driving on
to the song
rythm of night
Over that hill
these bloody roads
and sleeping houses
sleeping
sleeping

To love

Crawling into me like your hands inside my hair
Gentle and smooth
Coming in like sand and its salt water lapping shore
sweet and salted
Disolving all my fear, frustration and anger
like ice into boiled water
Calming and soothing me kindly between its soft touch
like the beauty of music in my heart
And flooding my body tender and strong
like rows of spring apple orchards and valleys
Given unto its wonder my body moves and breathes
like a sea turtle as dawn kisses and lulls it
Through the hundreds of years upon my dancing smile
like the best days I ever remember spending with you
my love

Cunning America hides in the tombs of its predecessors,
too nimble to thumb its own hand,
digging from the graves of its innocent.
America hands itself to the deaf,
roars at the sheepish,
dies before the virgins
floods itself in youth,
never trusting the wisdom of the wrinkled
elders to whom the land belonged.
It dies before Rome,
It falters before the emperor of East,
It knows not is production nor its waste,
gauging the deaf for hints of their hides.
Trying to kiss the fur,
of seals in dead harbors,
of bits of its garbage in its belly fishing,
of hurracanes that hold no.........

NO information the CIA will take into connsiddeation
So many things have been written about America
what would mine be?
Nothing,

Impunity

Selfish being has your thunder come across my heart rambling
Tossed upon your grief
and wonder
Has the curdled bolls taught you to kiss the shrines, has the wisdom
of your torture become my peace
Has riddled rising feigning dank and rough bounty cursed your plains
As wandering desert in autumn
the gathering leaves of hills
whisper slightly unto my mothers words
Child, hast thou forgotten?
Hast thou moved so far away from my native heart
Betwixt the columns of danger and deceit
Hast thou become the nightmare of the kindred
Lost?
Just because your joy taunted mine
Does that mean you grace must fall unto the wicked?
Why can not you slip into the solidity of peace?
Why can not your spell be cast among the living?
Lips upon the soil as death does unto the innocent.

Nowhere than the curves of earth
Nowhere except the daunting monuments that god hid before the breathing
Souls of men.
our wicked captivity has my belt entangled
In the tears of cities tumbled
Like weeds upon a foreign shore
How can you not see the beast in me?
Deception
Like the curve of a edible woman
Is all it will be to you
Not the glimmer of vast deeds that shatter
The looking glass of time
Seek beyond the highest hills
walk the quietest valleys
There you will find the whisper of creation.

As cannons fire overhead, look ye not upon the graves
look ye unto the eyes that meet.
Rest your eyes on heaven,

Cry

I turn in upon myself
Into the landscapes where I
Can dream- of things no one
Will ever see
I walk along the paths
That know me,
Stepping over the bridges I built
Washing my face in the rivers I cried
Beginning in the mountains
I ride the streams
down to the wide river's current
without vestiments
I set fire to the night
patting embers of my past
and wait till morning light
Lets me wander on
I see the hills now, sliding as I pass
I watch as the dawn floods my veins
And with no resistance
I let it into my pulse
the tender rocks
smoothly scattered among my fingers
the wet grass holding my spine against the earth
The ease of living
Where my heart rests
It cries not in pain
for all that has passed
It cries not for what may not be
It cries beacuse it knows,
that only it can give it what it
wants most
desires most
I remember making love to you
Young in our bodies,
The little pretty hotel room
Painted blue
Your perfect skin
touching me in the light
I touch that lost young love.
I cry for that lost young love.