1
this should be the 1st word
but it’s dropped
for affect [sic]
f/or maybe not. to
despeculate. kill/in- ter In
1
quick
–
pull the door
–
fast like you’d slam but
do not.
death by
rope not short enuf.
the madness born frm what you can’t remember
or fail to master,
& if you’d understood/foresaw the consequence
of Alone Time…
never would have happened.
No-one wants to be you.
if the head bends
bang another in &
harder & i’m tossing off some thing in
b fuckin Minor because i
doN’t
because i don’t have words when someone fucks me ova.
i’m trying to break the door
down, talk to.
don’t say That Was Epic, even if yr greenpeace or someone.
better even to be stiff. un
delivered frm. formal, & for that,
i’m going to be a prick &
discontinue my contributions;
have that flat white
every tuesday.
one symptom of autism is the failure of empathy but so what.
2
the easiest thing in the world is to Breathe.
second, is Relax.
my uncle said. but that was 1971 when i was
6 & so i said:
what if u fucking got asthma, cunt
or anxiety
& it turns to shit, to
fisticuffs &
we haven’t spoken since.
–
i want to break
make you
remember me by
–
books
good works
down the stairs &
one image tumbles
forms another. i want
to break
–
1st thought is the best, is –
studies have shown
what you know what you don’t know
See those
icons My
pure mind, my
protestant heart – to rid not
for ethical reasons.
don’t give me the facts.
yesterday
i’m raking leaves in the garden,
& i know what
what it’s like on the far
right, off the page
weak at the knees at the knees i want
to stop, to lie at yr feet, &
stop. breathe
like when u tell me to relax, to
take it easy. i’m not
going to hurt you.
we can be
superfriends
let me
get that,
for you.
run yr fingers
read me like a
–
take note. fill me
in with
slick
–
you know
that’s u, right
evidently
we’re not done the V
of sky between dreamscrapes
snag the ear.
1st thought = best thought.
nowadays i don’t throw my servants out the window.
i learn to curb my instinct.
as an aside
an experiment in
Law,
inter alia,
is an instrument
to beat the poor with.
i want to use the right side of yr brain more.
Not Use but.
Get in Touch with.
i’m a t.o.o.l but it isn’t my fault.
one tries not to be y’know & nothing but
i’m not a nihilist or any thing case yr
wondering.
3
when we meet
i squeeze thru the crack of u.
i eat nothing.
i fuckin fainted in the toilet
hit my head on the wooden ledge
of the bathtub;
saw no star but
darkness &
if it happens again i go to a doctor.
see what they say.
what they give me.
i’m nowhere.
that’s the fear,
the fear i’m
deadend. i declare,
for something to say, to be
– to snap
yr fingers to. thru w
shit job w
no job, i’m
gone
drift across &
cloud
winters
Bitter Cold It Was
boy. from milan we sail north
to zurich & when we get there it’s –
i mist something because
when we left in the morning
it was nineteen
eightynine & there was
no fucking euro & the Belgium cops
hauled me off the bus & said
in demotic French:
you, Sir,
are a fucking criminal.
will the howling winds never cease?
dug through this a few times, hoping the mine reveal the poet’s mineral bearing.
but no such discovery. interesting dig
fair enough Dean. Thanks for digging.
thanks for reading, John.
Phew, that is a wild ride of a poem.