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Look At...

look at...

clouds & chipmunks
underneath it all we are after the same thing
poetry..the stuff deep inside of me
burning in anguish frozen pee
closet breath with mothball scent
here I hide between the frozen chew
look at my elbow parked outside my window
order form...

look at the magazine soft porn inside
the billows be your guide
soft hand to speak
stand still & repeat
Led Zepplin song remains the same
a grocery date with Stop & Shop's,"Marty"...

a token of well gestures
Pee Wee Hermon jerking off in the bathroom
although widows peak summoned to the barn door swing
minutes to breath with sex on the beach

God is still in my heart through a latent guide
thoughts of underware..
come as good as it gets..
Major Jackson & Louise Gluck,
spring down with action
pillows with cashmere attire;
I sip on the magic potion
away from the casino tight token
breath in the sweet tense,

John Ashbery dead at 90
a slight riddle in the sand verticle
a double work slight of hand...
Rooster gay friend
he will be missed in another pardon kiss
people, faces & traces

There are bridges to be burned
which turn another page.

Form each circle
cast your bread upon the water,
It will return in measure and method unexpected
Yielding treasure.

There is energy to be stored
Experiences to be reviewed
Days of cheese and laughter
and that transient beauty that permeates the soul.

There is laughter paying homage to the memories
and the loss
which sneak up on me as I turn
to retrace
steps half remembered as my eyes
seek the bridge
now ashes
that separate me

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