queer gone mad

i wish i was brave as i want
to be. dress myself in hero
drag. join a gang of trapeze
gypsies with sardine eyes. be
smarter than buddha. have
more magic than jesus. never
be fooled by war or peace. i
could swallow a twister. put
donald trump in a cardboard
box. get stoned anytime day
or night. be hard like iron, soft
like poodle’s fur. so fast no one
could see me. break circles and
heal bones with my middle
finger. dream meaningless
wet dreams. my cursing would
be holy scripture. i wish i was
brave as i want to be. i would
be a poet with a mustache.


brian, i love you

the sky is dark and deep tonight.
where are you when i need you
crescent moon? i only have mars
and jupiter. my freedom is in
danger. frustrated. chinook
winds blow me to an empty
space. i protect my silence
where my nirvana hides. i play in
forest fog. falling leaves are
chimes of winter. they sing with
lips of static verse. foxfire
flowers losing their bloom. the
love for my love is twisting. he is
nature growing young, growing
old, growing young again. we
sleep together under ice of a
frozen allegheny. ravens whistle
sweet lullabies. our desert is
drenched in rain. rainbows crawl
over pine trees. everything is as
it is with no reason why. tears
can be from happiness or
sadness. being healed or
hurting. i am dying to be alive.
living to be reborn like you.
name me for what you care for.
feed me what i need. we can be
butterflies or snakes. behind
clouds a shining sun. my wages
cannot buy you anything. i want
to kiss you. be your stars on a
moonless night. if that’s ok with
you.


my politics

i don’t want to be white.
i want to be black, brown,
red, yellow, maybe green
or blue. on bad days i
believe in god. on good
days i thank buddha. i
have two faces. the
brightness of the moon
and the darkness of the
sun confuse me. i eat
hamburger, spiders, french
fries and snakes. i float on
cumulus clouds. drink
from dirty artesian wells.
everyone has someone
they want to see naked.
every morning i give
my enemies new names.
i talk to friends on the
phone. we promise each
other a cup of tea. i put
all my desires in
alphabetical order. at
easter all hell breaks loose.
i will see you then.


sometimes i sit by the highway

a big bus roars
by on highway six.
followed by sand to
cut my eyes and
black smoke for
me to swallow.
they think i’m
charlie manson.
i know i’m woody
guthrie. i watch pickups
chased by american
flags, pickups chased
by confederate flags.
i sing there are no
shinning seas or purple
mountains anymore.
my heart desires to be
full and empty, sad
and happy, sour and
sweet. my soul is silk.
my soul is steel.
sometimes i pretend
these things.
sometimes they
are real. jesse james
stops in a rusty falcon.
says get in partner
before it rains, where
you going. nowhere
i said and thank
him for the ride.


Bob Dylan & Allen Ginsberg – Vomit Express.mp4


Authors bookstore In Warren, Pa.

They give you 10 to 15 minutes to read your poems. I forgot some in the car so only shard for 7 minutes. This was my first time here and I think you can tell I was nervous because I did not know the audience.


literal timber

another day comes. yesterday
a season of a thousand years.
wildwood enigma of boyish
youth, barbaric innocence
tangled in thorns of carolina
rose. tumbling together like
wintertide saplings. life
everlasting brought to her knees,
leaves liberated from the limb.
playing gentle beast with the
lamb. over flowing lakes of
hate disseminate. the third eye
never sleeps. blood of my
valentine occupies my veins. old
world must be uncomplicated.
oppressed? extract eminence of
the hinterland. be polite to the
thunderhead. aurora may be
hiding her face. we are
enlightened in kisses. join one
hand clapping in kinship.
deliverance is not contemplated.
we bloom exhausted. fossils of
flesh exalted. amber waves of
grain ripen. forsake me not
dulcet voice of red maple. he
tumbles in your harmony. i
stumble on his vitality. acclimate
to the nautical day we mate.
trumpet vines we cling as
romeo’s.


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