mindsonsong

Shoot me, he said
topping off Timothy Leary
with a little foam

the beer was strong and tasty
got you drunk on just one sip

two, and you’re sitting on stars
you’re a star yourself,
shining light…

We all shine on, he said
and he did, spanking the white fantastic
blind and be-all god,

dyeing the killing devil
blue with an autograph
buying a little smack with his left hand

with his right he wrote on the board,
“Listen to the color of your dream…”
Listen: it’s good and groovy
listen to the maestro
come together

The passage of language
in and out like a thread
covered with bodily fluids

language of passage
pushed like a suture through your next
door neighbor’s scar

melding with his gush and goo
his bile and blood and semen

tying you together like parts of a net
a complex net of invention

the poem becomes him
you become the poem
the daylight says so

the daylight, shedding tears
of warmth to flow over the inner sadness
the drop of depression the ecstasy incurs
a hollow in the heart for fresh passage

1
European son
their mentor,
Delmore Schwartz telling it like it is,

the children of the czar and the ball
evading their will,

European son
the crack in their veneer
the crevice in the speaker

blaring out blasted sound
dirty down guitars

2
Heroin their lifeline
streaming out of Andy Warhol’s club
the plastic inevitable

inevitably pushing out some growth
some spiked leaves

Venus in furs
whipping them into shape

3
Heavenly wine and roses
who hasn’t known them
falling from the rafters
as you uncork the champagne

1
The hand grows like a flower
forcing thoughts on the page
pushing poems out
like little grenades

2
The voice fights with the thought
the hand grabs the thought by the neck
and forces it down, polite, precise,
peopled with popular stuff

3
The voice grows strong
fighting its war of independence
on the brain, the brain
little ruler to measure pain

4
The brain: factory of ice
poured into the drink of thought
cocktail of the eye

5
Tripping on the eye’s acids
I measure my thoughts with a test tube
the glass breaks into song

Half a cello at the festival

like the rudder of a Chinese junk

channeling Japanese joy,

always a warm stream of love

even in the deepest noise,

noise to make you feel good,

and loved, knowing in your deepest

heart, Junko loves you

for cellist Audrey Chen

Always a bitter pill

python venom

eels in green grass water

blue sea blossoms spiraling

squeezing out a serum

from the heart

attack of guns in a jungle

high streamers in the sky

bright blue balloons

Cecil’s silent tongues

pas de deux with partner

exquisite tender flesh

starlight dancing in a body

The way to love, the right way

the pathway to right love

to give the path its opportunity

to sway and turn and counter,

the path of choice, of giving choice

to take… I love a woman

simply, seeking her favor

the love of her hot mind,

pasted on precious projects

what I seek, it is a woman with direction

finding the path she follows, letting it be

I seek a mind devoted to its task

a passionate, loyal devotion to her dream

an exit for me to open then follow her

coaching her as she shows me the way

touching her with my hand but very gently

kissing her on her hair, taking her hand

I dream of a woman loving me back

rewarding me for making the right choice

right choice so hard to make,

trying the metal in fire

prerequisite passion the only effective flame

for crucible, leaving so many assays in dark

mystery, never solved, open-ended questions

of what might have been, unanswered until

the real surpasses fancy. All else is waste

the right woman… You must discover her,

find her in her fragile element

singing a tame song bolder, for you