to be given this gift of loving and
living with all the imperfections,
with all the
how things have not turned out the way they should
or how they should is to be turned
out with nails in wrists
and imperfections and how the bad sight
in one eye
and the limp in the leg and the words
said to you that
broke your heart are all a part of it
and we are all, crawling through the passion
and when we come down these narrows roads
with veronica weeping
when the daughters of jerusalem
lead us out into the city
out of its limits with the thieves
and whores
we will not see a crucifixion
but a transition
we will see a beautiful naked man
and then
we will see an infant in a virgin's arms

i can hardly help doing things the
same way i've always done before i am
always saying i have got to change and
yet i keep on coming back here, keep chasing
deer i've never caught in the same
goddamn circles i've gone before
and the worse part is you're no better
and the worst part is coming this short a
distance i see how far i've come
and the good part is the light
and the good part is that, finally,
i am hearing your little voice
shout so loud

rihht now you have promised me a childhood
i never had on this earth
an innocense that even when i was one day
old i never felt
today at the beginning
counting days till the drummer boy comes
hours till the star arises over bethlehem
look now and realize you are remembering
something
that was not for him. but for you
that it is not time to be born in the stable
it is not time to be born of the virgin
it is not time to become so small you
fit inside a star
it is time to travel on the wind
taken so far
that you are the child
in the manger
the child you have never been

the first day of advent
when the sky is white grey and trees blackeing
i come out of the warm bed hoping
and it has been such a long time since
hope
and i remember the days of despair and even
last night was a day of despairs and obsessions
at the time of the purple candle come into
childhood at the time of the blue and white
to let these scars all go
do not be afraid to be the child
at this time
against my will
i feel hope
and now it is not vain because
in the days long past i stood and watched
the dead root grow

we are bad
we are stifled, we are unable
when it comes to thanksgiving
we are all stuffed with shit and
saffron, stupid turkeys
sitting round the table, as we fold
our hands aunt mable says: give than ks
and how we resent this
and what is more
we say what you never hear from the poor
in warm clothes and heated homes
shielded from the storm that's blown
half the world we way
we say:

i'd be more grateful
if i had something to be thankful for

take this body
in the body
touch your flesh to my flesh
and the taste of snow and the
watermelon on your tongue
and let go

let go of all anger
take my body and
love my body
and i'll love yours
take this bread
and this wine and this
time don't be afraid to offer
yourself to the whole world
all the world is in you
all the world

if we could see ourselves
as we are
glittering, ancient
large as stars
then would this make humility?
and could we,
at last, say:
it ain't all about me
no...
it ain't all about me

and when will i be...?
and when will i be...?
and when will i get justified
get my desserts
and when will i get
what's coming to me?
when will i get some sympathy
some reciprocity?
and when will do?
finally do?
when will you do what i
think you should do
and serve me?
and serve
and
when will i learn
could i just learn
stop the burn
of greed
and why do i need and always need
and when will i learn to
serve?

no
things are not getting colder
no things are not freezingco
they are just slowing because
when we're all growing older
no one is learning anything
and courage is activated when
we get up to go away
and courage is activated in
wars across the sea
and when you want to type
a trasny letter to me
knowing i won't ever see your face
but for every day life
between fear and delusion
we're all stuck doing nothing
in this icy confusion

i have, by great effort
made the decision to move onto the outskirts
of fear
sometimes it is dull here
sometimes there is the mouse crawling up my leg
and sometimes it is as if i never seem to wake up
i thought that when the enlightenment came
i would never be tired again
i heard of a woman who for the love of god
gave her life and on a train to a death camp
lay on her back in utter delight
gazing at the stars and feeling
jesus
but right now what if feel is tired
and what i'd like is cold water for these
red eyes
and an hour more of sleep
in the bed thats already taken too many hours away

SCOT

By the striking of a match and a candle
flame
he saw the glowing eyes of the boy he loved.

He saw the length of a body compact
and small like his. Then he dispensed with the light
and gave up looking for touching,

and touching

for the linking of bodies,
and they were like that
the whole night…

russ

if i could do one thing i would see Russ again
And how would you not see someone again if the
someone's name was Russ? and i would ruffle my
hands through his hair, stroke his soft shoulder
length hair that smelled of shampoo and of new
washing and i would put the back of my hand to
the front of his cheeks, ah, and then
i would kiss him
Russ, i should have kissed you!
if i hadn't missed it we would have linked hands
real quiet and found a bed in that large house
or gone back to your small house and spent the hours
touching, touching, minutes undressing
shut the door and out of sight,
say goodbye, turn out the light
twisted like serpents or like
servants of One Love,
twisting our twain flesh all that night.

here in america
our dreams are too big for our
houses
and everyone here needs new houses
and the lousy part is
prophets have played
the message that thinking
is doing
and wishing is willing
and everything and everyone
is interesting
and you've got a book in you
and i've got a book in
me
and we are all so persecuted
and unappreciated
everything we do ends in the question:
what will you do with that? and we are
devoted to planning out the futures
that will never happen
keeping rules that no god ever made and so
tired and afraid,carving pigeonholes and boxes
like superstitious circles we climb right in
and hide
then at the end of another
pissed off night we drive into our
garages feeling smug
and justified

if you can't say anything nice
its probably true
you'd better close your eyes to change
the view
and i'm sitting her smoking cigarettes
and its dark on friday and i don't get
why i believed
truly, deeply,
that all this writing would be
my transformation
and all of this weekly, daily
self examination
and after i have forced myself
lighting candles, doing
prayer and meditation there comes
his voice:
hush
take things more lightly

the last hunger after the final sleep
on the edge of three am, on the lip of
four in the morning
things are clearer now
love is all that mattered
friend, in the truest since of
the word
is all that really mattered
i went too the closet today and
locked myself in there
i said boo seven times waiting
for the terror to come
but it was too tired to come
so i suppose after thirty two years
sitting here
drinking a beer
i've overcome
something

at the mormon church
while the dumb young
brother preached the sermon
i looked at him and he was so
beautiful i thought
this is the way to simonize me
how many folks endured how
many sermons for a look
at a beautiful woman
or a bull built man
and a fire and brimstone
fantasy about a heavenly
tumble?

jesus loves me
but not like you believe
last night he came through my window like a teenaged boy
and he toyed with the lock, it didn't matter
while the preacher was murmuring something from the clock radio
he undressed and shimmied out of his black underwear
and hopped from here
to there
into the bed
and we started laughing
and then we started fucking
and the things we did under those sheets
i think you've never sermonized
i think you don't know how God harmonizes
and every aspect of our dancing
becomes loving
and giving and
taking
and spilling of seed
and the loosing of fear
with him
through him
in him
all through the night
until there is day
and the orgasm shout while he holds out hips
out
hallelujah!

what if in this last incarnation
you came to me a sweet young man
with the sun in his hand
and in his flesh, brown flesh,
gold flesh
flesh i'd want to hold flesh
and you laid down beside me and
said take of meand then you took
of mesliding the white cloth
from the length of your body
and i loved your body cause
you gave me your body
and you took me
and i knew you
and i knew no fear
and when we were finished
when all passion spent
you got up and went to the shower
and i knew what you were waiting for
for me to say
take me
as you took me then
take me again and i will follow
and you came out
all brown and gold, laughing
and me dickheavy with longing
water and myrhh dripped from your locks
and for my sake you redressed slowly
slowly cloth over round buttocks
and sausage cock
over the chest
the brown breast
and then i dressed to follow
you showered me
cleansed me in the myrhh of your hair
and there, Dark Lover
i knew Christ the Lord
the Lover
the Fool, the Fucker