Saturday, September 07, 2013


To undo the night now and
Welcome him in with a split skull
You thought earlier today you were a poet or something
Something about the wall and sky matching perfectly
Wondering which to bash your head against

But riding now downtown and farther in
The men all smell sick, unpleasant and unwell,
And are talking with themselves but look you are too
And soon the day when all that your hands will hold
Will be an open flame and a can of hairspray

There now is the war you will haunt
When the mind won’t click like it did but thinking on
The quiet mornings you walked to China Beach
And back again just as all the feathers breached the pillows
And were off to labor and toil like sleepy machines

Think of passions and perimeters now
That could keep you whole and wish instead you had walked
But even though some nails will perhaps always scratch your throat
How I would like to believe in tenderness the face of the effigy 
      gentled by candles bending on me in particular its mild eyes
But you do and what will you and he have for lunch later today in 1953

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