More Old Poems

Llama Spit

With a pocket full of shells
There's some things I know to be true
There's no room

But I got to think twice
I'm not going to get too sentimental
Don't leave me high

I beat the crucifix
We don't even care
I wish you'd grow up

There's a light when the window shades are gone
I know what to show and what to conceal

Banish me and mine to outer space
I'm the epitome of public enemy
This masquerade is getting older
Leave a trail of dust and disappear into the sunset
Then one foggy Christmas Eve

I wonder what it's like to be a clone
This revolution has just begun
My two cents is free

[6.14.03]

wishing to speak

wishing to speak
i am empty
dry constipated well
like a desert
there is no blood in this rock
the pulley screeches
the bucket is empty
where are the words of yesteryear?
the wind blows sand in my eyes in my mouth
wishing to speak

[5.5.03]

The Ace Of Spades

The Queen of Hearts and the Jack of Spades,
the Ten of Clubs and all four Eights,
the Diamond Four and the Diamond Queen,
the big Spade Two and the gross Club Three:
Flying, Flying, Flying. Lost, Lost, Lost.
Flying through the air goes my deck of cards,
thrown out onto the ivy vines: curling,
stretching, entangling, twisted, and sinister.
The cards fall one by one on the dark green mass
of jealous, evil tentacles. My deck of cards;
they are strewn everywhere -- except for one:
the Ace of Spades still dances on the wind,
twitting in the air, back and forth along a whim.
The Ace of Spades still dances in the light;
your vines, your ivy will never poison me.
My one card left shall not be lost in your depths.

[3.19.03]