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Fat Man in the Bathtub
It needs more Cowbell
https://youtu.be/sodthxK1z44
underwaterfalldown down down down down down deep below children of the caves will let theirsecret fires glow~~~ An explosion of birdsDawnSun strokes the wallsAn old man leaves the CasinoA young man reading pauseson the path to the garden~~~ Bitter winterFiction dogs are starvingThe radio is moaning softlycalling to the dogsThere are still a fewanimals left in the yard Sit up all night,talking smokingCount the dead & wait’til morningWill warm names & facescome againDoes the silver forest end?~~~ December IslesHot morning chambersof the New DayIdiot first to awaken (be born)w/shadows of new playlearned menin Sunday bestwe’ve had our chance to restto mourn the passing of dayto lament the death of ourglorious member(she whispers secret messagesof love in the gardento her friends, the bees)The garden would be hereforevermore~~~ Mexican parachuteBlue green pinkInvented of Silk& stretched on grassDraped in the treesof a Mexican ParkT-shirt boys in theirSlumbering art~~~ —I fear that he’s beenmaim’d beyond allrecognition He hears them come &murmur over his corpse. Street Pizza.~~~ funny,I keep expecting aknock on the doorwell, that’s what youget for living aroundpeople a Knock? would shattermy dreams’ illusionsdeportment & composureThe struggle of a poor poetto stay out of the gripsof novels & gambling& journalism~~~ A quality of ignorance,self-deception may benecessary to the poet’ssurvival.~~~ Actors must make us thinkthey’re realOur friends must notmake us think we’re acting They are, though, in slowTime My wild wordsslip into fusion& risk losingthe solid ground So stranger, getwilder still Probe the Highlands~~~ Bourbon is a wicked brew, recallingcourage milk, refined poisonof cockroach & tree-bark, leaves& fly-wings scraped from theland, a thick film; menstrualfluids no doubt add their splendour.It is the eagle’s drink.~~~ Why do I drink?So that I can write poetry. Sometimes when it’s all spun outand all that is ugly recedesinto a deep sleepThere is an awakeningand all that remains is true.As the body is ravagedthe spirit grows stronger. Forgive me Father for I knowwhat I do.I want to hear the last Poemof the last Poet.
https://youtu.be/jEILGYq7eso
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Music To Make Love To My Old Lady By (Read 4310 times)
