so sleepy ..

rain finally rolled in...
 grey San Francisco..
 no waiting
on no one now
    just a big grey sky
 and the dripping
    through the window
   -for a little fresh air
  Napoleon never weeped
      but you can step on Tom Waits'
   hand
    If you owned a loft in Tribeca
in the nineties
   -one that has a swing in the living area
  large paintings
      no plants though
     too dark
     I dreamt I found a flat file
    but it was all covered in black plastic
We went to Sissy's job in NY
   taking care of Avedon's plants
       her husband worked at the Cloisters
    a medieval castle
  it never had any monks
or nuns
   but they have tapestries
     "we're here to inspect the tapestries"
    -some movie
    Sean Connery?
   wearing a beret?
     
   
    
   

c 

 thought 

 rebellion 

 was in 

 the air

   but the 

 car 

wouldn't 

        not go 

     no matter 

how she tried 

           - it was a stupid letter 

   she found 

 written 

 years ago 

 and never 

 sent 

 just reading 

 it was 

painful-

      so 

     she put on her shoes and 

got out 

of 

the 

house

sad writing of forlorn 

 and empty 

love 

 writing 

   my insecurity 

  now needs of the fire 

 to purge 

     the past 

    from my blood 

      so many 

    drawing books 

          so many shitty drawings 

      with a blue magic marker 

  what were you thinking 

  

a house like a museum of 

1978 

      filled with mice and 

   letters 

       books covered in 

 dust 

                  box them up 

 take them somewhere 

   somewhere not here

      don't bring that here 

   too late 

                                start again

sad writing...

-the coldest winter
   I ever spent
    was a summer
       with your mother-

in SF winter
   is a summer
       day in Montreal
a rainy cold

 summer day
     or maybe fall in NJ
   yeah
 Fall in NJ
  


        

'secrets hide in your dna'
   f u internets
blahbitty
     bit fux
       byte me
       

To Althea, from Prison: By: RICHARD LOVELACE (written in 1642) 

When Love with unconfinèd wings Hovers within my Gates,
 And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the Grates; 
 When I lie tangled in her hair,
 And fettered to her eye, 
The Gods that wanton in the Air, 
Know no such Liberty. 
 When flowing Cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames, 
Our careless heads with Roses bound, 
Our hearts with Loyal Flames; When thirsty grief in Wine we steep, 
When Healths and draughts go free, 
Fishes that tipple in the Deep Know no such Liberty. 
When (like committed linnets) I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, 
Mercy, 
Majesty, 
 And glories of my King; 
When I shall voice aloud how good He is, how Great should be, 
 Enlargèd Winds, that curl the Flood, 
 Know no such Liberty.
 Stone Walls do not a Prison make,
 Nor Iron bars a Cage; 
Minds innocent and quiet take That for an Hermitage. 
If I have freedom in my Love,
 And in my soul am free,
 Angels alone that soar above, 
 Enjoy such Liberty.

 I 

caved 

b

 side 

 the shallow 

 walls   

        plunked down 

      n 

 dark 

 ness

       looked at 

 light 

     shining 

 some

        where

     HOPE

        praps 

    or a crack 

   n 

 the 

wall

     window 

    door 

     forever 

    mistaking 

 my 

    doubts 

       for 

        realism 

            shine 

         a light 

 spelunker

    

you 

shone 

             like the sun 

   in your mirrored 

                           sunglasses  

tripping 

acid 

         in the park 

            playing 

   frisbee 

       whoo

                       frisbee!

         

every 

 where

 are fuck 

faces 

    fucky 

     fucky 

fuck                        

faces            

doing 

 their 

     fucky 

       fucky 

      face 

            fucking 

 fucking 

 me 

  fucking 

you 

fucking 

        everyone  

                         fuckfaces!

 

               

stately 

   plump

     oh shit 

 who spilled 

                    beer all over 

 the floor 

  S

seems 

       like  

           a 

 pos

                              but 

 somethings 

 wrong 

 w 

 the meter 

    these days 

 rats 

                                  and   

                               lisinopril 

                  still we send 

 our

   telegrams 

        to 

                         Indiana Jones 

            and watch the skies 

          for shelter

              

tantamount 

 to 

                         "I'm tired!"

but the bottle 

                                     was just sitting on the bar 

                                                  (in a brown paper bag)
   she said 

 get a cup
                                                I gave her a caramel

SHE LEFT THE BOTTLE 

          SITTING RIGHT ON THE BAR
   then she went to find Josh 

                              who was seriously screwy eyed 

       probably 

trippin 

   balls 

                                                 he was at Double Dutch

                 then we went to the five 

and it was boring

three eyes 

 don't see 

 where the wicked 

 work their 

     sorry 

 excuse                     

 g 

 is 

    done 

     everywhere is something 

        the threads in the 

                  stolen blankets 

     who steals blankets 

                             the star -like train ride 

         berthed in snow banks 

                     another day 

                                say hi!

 a draft
 of drowsy
 beer
 senses
  sitting
 by the pool
    settlers in covered wagons
roll by
  worried about indian attacks

keep the reasons 

on your 

right 

   but 

 before you 

 get out of 

    line 

     watch 

 your feet 

       the mexico city 

    sidewalks 

                           are a bit dangerous 

    i had a friend who lost an eye 

 poked from 

                a piece of rebar 

                                sticking out of a building 

    now she's called 

                            Villainess Patty

                               but she loves her dogs
   one of the dogs also 

     has only one eye 

          his name is 

          Leroi

    "the king"

             not sure how he lost his 

        maybe also dangerous 

                sidewalks 

     or homeless curs 

                lots of them around here 

                                                                most are too skinny to be dangerous though

  the fleas though 

       they'll kill you in a heartbeat

                the other dogs 

is Rembrandt

      not sure why 

    maybe the brown fur
     he's a big lovable thing 

       always drooling on 

   everything 

        he loves churros 

     but the villainess 

                        won't give them to him very often 

"they're not good for him"

          smart villains take care 

                of their dogs

 

whoa simple
 what's that
 musky odor
     is it raining out?
      the dirt gets lifted
         the redwoods smell so good
              it's like they're talking
                "hey come on over
                     and hang out"

still

life 

 movie life 

                                 broken Ansel Adams life

        stood 

 before 

     the easel

              and pleaded

                                              for a moment of light   

   zone III

 maybe 

    I dunno

       Dektol

       reciprocity

     add 

       more time 

                           or more light   

       expose for the shadows

                                          develop for the highlights

    

 pink
roses
  in December
   I don't think they know
what's going
on

step
  step
 step
   stepping
on your
face
   oh
 no
    just looking for
      my soul
magical hands
    put them on my shoulders
       please
  oh
 yes
   trained cellist hands
are strong
    but we're just drinking
here