the sigh

pierced silence.

our breathing

wasn't anything

different

than those other people

in other houses

on other streets

doing the same

as us.

we are not special.

this is not special.

it's just another

tip

in 

the 

jar.
i shake my head
back and forth
starring at my feet
"goddamn you've been such a fool"
and you'd do it again
i know i would.
"goddamn you've been such a fool"
"goddamn you've been such a fool..."
on and on like this
until i close it off.
tie it up
and throw it far into the river.

as she was putting her clothes back on,

outside,

her chin was scratched,

she said to me,

"when you're ready,

i'll bring the noise"

what?

looking
at
this
on the shelf
and in the box
scanning on the tv
and playing over the speakers
in the books
and under the blankets
inside of the apartment
and hiking up the hill
in the sky with the gods
and underground with the gutter rats
in the bottle
and in my hands
all
in
my
hands

What a Difference a Day Makes

come over here,
and lay down with me
nuzzle together our heads
and share the air that
we both breath
in ourselves
with overflowing lust
we fog up the windows
and pass the wine
between our small fist
as we pound on the glass
coasting our ride
straight down the dividing
lines of
nothing like
this
that's happened in so long
how is we both waited to
pass
each other in the station
like two strangers
grasping at our coat tails
and peacock feathers
so stay with me
for just a little longer
as the early rays
shine through the blinds
your body burns
like a little furnace
and i feel it through the sheets
as we rub against
each other tonight
but tomorrow
you'll be gone
back to your books and classes
your school of rebellious
individual masses
who think they can
change
the world all at once
but i know better than that
i don't want to get my nose dirty
i want to stay clean
so i stand for morals
and some understanding
of these people who throw
garbage at me
you're strong for me
right now
but i've traveled this road with you
crazy eyes
and it's a cycle
give it a month
and you'll be right back
to where you started from
and for me it'll be
just
another day
lost.

Crazy Eyes

you

crazy eyes starring up at me

from the limp lights of the parking garage

windows half way pulled down cigarette smoke

rolling over glass hedges

somewhere out there we're hearing 

the stuttering of a late model car

trying to button down for a long night of 

doing nothing

but fondling in the back seat of this old car

like two teenagers try to find the right 

spots.

and the fire trucks peel by like midnight fire

off to save some

lives

in

Babylon.

the radio whispers and hands starting wondering

what kind trip

we're on.. on on....

it's fun while it last until you head right back

up

to where you came from

and i know it all now so i don't take this for granted

or put weight more on it

than anyone of  us can take

so i let the words bubble at the surface

to let the feeling marinate

in this bullshit

we're on.

we both have preoccupations, people to spoon and make us feel like
its all up to us
but we both know that denial runs

rotten

in us.

we must busy ourselves until something certain

but even then in that part the emotions are blinder than a
solitary person
or
a.
a.

a peon.

so as the bus rolls away with you on it

i'll be looking forward to writing a letter
all about it

to my

editor

in 

Poland.
if they can hear me screaming
then i'll know
nothings worth it
but
moving on.

there's a hat in the middle of the street waiting..
oh waiting
waiting for me.
if i can dodge all these fucking cars
i just might make it
to seniority
across vast wasteland

theres so much to share
but it's hard
when they don't
want
to
hear.
maybe,
what i have
is not
worth hearing