then gun shots, outside my window
I think this once safe neighborhood
is beginning to get interesting.
I pick a quiet place to type
and then the police come.
I have heard countless black people screaming, “White Flight! White Flight!”
But I’m not going anywhere.
I am too interested in violence, race relations, radicals, and people of all colors
I see beauty, in a murderous German Shepherd
and when the chips are down
and the bombs drop—
we will see who people really are
the moralizers will be murderers
quiet thinkers, will get out of town
I will be in town, still
because I have a death wish
It’s the Hemingway phenomenon:
do what might kill you, and you can grab genius by the balls
it comes, when you don’t try
like looking at a woman, in a flower dress, on Sunday.
It’s totally different
when your eyes are prepared for lust—
it takes more than flesh
the myopic gaze of a pervert.
Unsuspecting beauty, draped in purity
is more of a turn-on
than the woman who practically shows you, her junk
and that’s what it is
there’s nothing there
that do far worse to a man, than if he put his dick in an electrical outlet.
The man who does—
does it again, and again
and the woman, doesn’t power him.
She drains him of all his self-respect.
The espresso tastes good right now
as I think of my interest in strange people
They all require a personal philosophy
that’s different from the propaganda
most of us believe.
the killer who has to go about his day
knowing, the police will kick-in his door, someday.
Men have turned themselves in
for lesser crimes
because they couldn’t take
What gives a guy his balls,
to do what he wants?
There is a man who could write the next great American novel
but he chooses to lay down the line,
He doesn’t experience great things to put into a great novel
so he writes about the stink
coming from his soul.
I’m not going to run from who I am
even when it hurts.
I’m going to stand
until the flood waters come
under a sea of disappointment
where the crabs, pluck-off my toes
one by one
and the oysters make pearls from my pain.
Nobody can hear the sound of my suffering
as the fish nibble away
at my tender white corpse
where the sea weed sucks me down
and the clown fish laugh.