Feels circus left the stakes
a broken ropes useless mug
The ties that bind, ha ha
I can be bad poet
Street poet
Shit poet
Kind poet too
Subway
Almost 4am
Halloween night
Had enough to drink to make my own party
All my fellow writers in half costume, half asleep
Half silly, gone to seed
I don’t mark my time with dates,
holidays, faded wisdom,
locked karma, whatever’s
Convenient
I am made by my times
I am a creation of now
Shaken with the cracks and crevices
I am not giving up easy
I will not fold
I don’t have much
But what I have is gold
I saw your face
you drift in snow
and i drift in snow
I sing in platunim
I dress in brass
I eat in zinc
Let it pass
Compare a toast
I like that
I understand courage
I still roll with the shout of a character I was married to today
I try to see outside myself
I understand the eyes
Excuse all the highs
Sorry
I am sorry
Ha ha
what have we learned
i like your face
I like you, love you, every coast of you.
I’ve seen your eddies and tides and hurricanes and cyclones.
Low ebb tide and high, full moon.
Up close and distant
I read you like the sky, the sea, the ocean, the sun, the moon.
Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue.
Naked and blue.
naked and blue resentful
Breathing with you. Touch. Change. Shift. Allow air. Window open. Drift. Drift away. Into now.
I want Whitman proud. Patti Lee proud. My brothers proud. My sisters proud. I want me. I want it all. I want sensational. Irresistible.
This is my time and I am thrilled to be alive.
Living
Blessed
I understand
Twentieth century
Collapse Into Now
Patti: cindarella boy you've lost your shoe
cindarella boy, blue blue...
your coach awaits, blue blue...
a sun it shines, blue blue...
all over your face, blue blue...
as you sing, blue blue...
naked and blue, blue blue...
into me
discover, discover...
compositores: Peter Buck, Mike Mills, Michael Stipe
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