nothing even the glowing
nerve-ends of buildings
are nothing to the vertical
pleasure harvested from
the horizontal don’t
get me wrong my feet
are still very much on
the ground my feet are
grounded in sacred principles
that carry me to sharpen
my wits on the whetstone
of today’s air suddenly
we’ve passed all that
on a train of thought with
a hook in it to reach out
and grasp the male principle
in the station just passed
this allows us to nap in
comfort for awhile, letting,
like efficiently circulating
blood, the breeze gently
blow around the toe
managing to move me a foot
from where I started
but, enough about me
how about you
THE/SKELETON
the
skeleton
of
the
gestures
were
glowing
PORE SUSPENSION
I’m having a hard time making ends meet
So what, my suit is tan, that is the style
What with the grocery bills being
What they are. Do you have the same trouble
Now. And you know damn well that that is the way
Adding 2 and 2 and getting uneasy,
Strange numbers you never thought existed before?
I like it: when the style changes so does my tie;
It is not really the strangeness you are
Talking about. It might be the coloring,
You can hear me huffing (puff) (puff)
But never the strangeness. That is beastly.
Or, at least hot. The numbers creeping up
Going down the street away from your door
Behind you in your head, as you sit smoking
The ash growing longer with the hours.
After you have had the last word in the conver-
It is the longest cigaret
You ever smoked.
Sensationally, speaking of our love, it is on the fritz,
Part of the new german-french lover from ‟New Vague”
Invading the number system
PRIVETS COME INTO SEASON AT HIGH TIDE
Privets come into season at high tide.
The night on the Great Neck side
near Steppingstone the bargeman walks
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