BUT IT'S THE TRUTH

they had a boy
baby all dark around
the eyes, heavy hooded
lids, shoulders drawn
up around the ears
like a vulture
in repose, and
somebody said,
"kinda looks a little
like nixon," that kid will
get kicked around.

POETRY IS GAY (for John Wieners)

i write poetry because i am
an idiot and a malcontent,
not that there’s anything wrong with that.

THE POET DOES NOT DIE

the poet does not die
for lack of readers. he dies
for lack of hope, which is
to say, "love."

for love is nothing
if not wishful and silly; and
poems are nothing but songs
whose only instrument is

the breath, that frail
involuntary whispering
that keeps us, for the moment,
from death.

THIN LINE

poetry is the answer
to: what

to make

of all
this?

but a poem is

no solution, just
artifice
upon which

to drape a flimsy
premise; the better
to dry it
out for safe-

keeping

or burning.

RELEASE

oh for the love
of
god would you

please just
take hold
of some part of me and never

let go. there
now
please

do it again.

THOUGHTS FROM THE FLU

only the sick can see
the arrogance that afflicts
the healthy;

doomed as they are,
inevitably, the sick await
death's murky reverie

while the healthy
pretend they might,
eventually,
outrun the end.

neither endures.
life has no cure.