Saturday, July 1, 2006

SF

today i would like to discuss something very serious.so serious in fact that you have to realize that as i'm writing this i myself have no idea what it will be, marcus will be. here it goes , allen ginsberg first thought best thought
supplying structure now
meter arising somehow
gaining ground and momentum
like a train or ride but who'd invent 'em

i remember when i was born
the doctor slapped my mother
kidding that never happened
i wasn't born it was another

someone told me i was born
right out of satan's ass
it was mean i thought but let it go
and left 'em startled and aghast

satan, god, and angels too
are products of the mind
a mind displacing good and bad
onto another kind

these words come from hell
these words come from hell
a hell that's easy to forget
when you think of another's hell

what have you got to complain about
as you mope about the house
food, beer, designer wardrope
to hang upon yourself

i am famous
a famous blue anus
a sad little rectum it's true
my fame is my undoing
my undeniable proving
to myself that....

sex
sex sex and more sex
and sex and sex again
contrasexion for all
distribute and have a ball
a giggle a laugh or two

the world is filleted
who gets their fill of being layed
it's love that we're all after
and admiration or admonition
toward those who don't approve

prove your manhood
put a hood on your dick
and stick
it where you must
but remember this oh ye of lust
your mother's ghost stands at your shoulder
face like ice a little bit colder
saying to me
you cannot do that it breaks all the rules
you learned in school

how can you ever love another
when you've loved your first love
like no other

and still the dripping days conceal fetid waste
upon the golden rocks she layed today
her eyes were warned of living close to sea
her heart was pumping salt and scorn for me

but she went away
back to l.a.
and so i was left
back up in s.f.
and a million hits rolled up on the shore

the sunsets used to last a day or two
in sand francisco it was always me and you
you used to draw the faces on the beach
the children laughed, the future in their reach

but older cancers prey on whiskeyed eyes
a bottle broke and garbage skittered in
she said that once i'm caught i can't survive
i caught a glimpse of her today in gin

the story began like so many others
confused somewhere in there
she loved or was it me
i loved her from the moment i was conceived

suitcases blue vases flowers in half watered daisies
coming alive
like beautiful weeds

why did i have to see her today

six stringed guitars and worn out picks
keyboards and four-tracks that work badly now
harmonica, recorder, an amplified memory
of a dream i had or was it just reality

why did i have to breath her today

a knock upon the wall would keep away
the fear that hid inside a cupboard door
corroded cross across a crippled yegg
she never saw it coming up the floor

look out! i cried and let the faucet run
until tomorrow breeds another sting.
it's drying nicely. now that she's a nun
she knows salvation comes to those who bring
a heart of love and look up at the sun
concealed behind an eagle's broken wing.
a hook, a doll, a rip revealed in one,
the burning dress removed she now could sing
a dirge for us. this love is nearly wrung
completely.
"free!", she laughed, and held the ring
and tossed it in the ocean. now it's done.
i moaned the king is dead long live the king.
tomorrow never comes for those who pine
away the moment spilling stale wine.

why did i have to leave her today

1 comments:

Nappy said...

You're a babbling brook. Its very pleasant!

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