I don't feel all fevered and passionate like i did
Just sort of sedated
Having admitted my love I'm okay with
it not working out
not even the temptation to wish I could love
someone else.
I try to.
I try to wish for someone else cause
i can't remember your face,
it turns into someone else's, all the lines
of it fall out and break
like some Picasso lover
I can't get your laugh or your voice
right anymore.
no pictures of you, just this faulty
grasping memory
this palsied claw of the mind and it seems
like I don't love you, am quite over you
So, why when I see a picture of Phoenix
Arizona, or any thread that leads to
you am i instantly with you, feeling
the touch of your hand,
the bread heat scent of your breath
and why do i know, if i have forgotten you
if i am over you
the solidity of your lanky frame
why does the Oklahoma accent whisper in my head
Never ever did I carry a man so fully in my vitals.
When I tell myself that this has very little chance
of working
that I should put it all away
my self is very quiet
and she just shakes her head and chuckling
whispers
"No."

So that is where I am right now.

Deep inside I know you will always return to me....

i think i denied this for sometime
i know that your eyes
supplied
the music and the melody
for me
your hands, the curve of your back
nothing lacking
how i miss you
think about you
what about you?

i say it now

and hide it later
i guess it's time to view
the situation
looking in the mirror
of your eyes
there's no need to lie
i am much in love with you

i knew i wanted to know you
i knew i wanted to see you
hanging about, spouting off like
some little brother
and then, after you had not shaved
after the touch of your hand
and the look in your eye
after you apologized
i find myself wanting to
fuck you...

the day i long for is the day when i reach
up to hold your waist in these two hands
run up my hands over the the light black
hairs of your
lovely creamy chest

... i guess its time for me to admit
that i can totally get down with
the thought of you
between my legs...

and will there ever be a day
when i see you standing
naked in my kitchen
washing off your body after our love?

... i guess its time for me to admit
that i can totally get down with
the thought of you
between my legs...

after you have risen from my bed
deep inside i always knew
i'd want you like honey
and syrup
like chocolate and oranges
filling me
and dripping
from my mouth...

... i guess its time for me to admit
that i can totally get down with
the thought of you
between my legs...

deep inside i always knew
i'd want you like honey
and syrup
like chocolate and oranges
filling me
and dripping
from my mouth...

we emerge out of fiery light,
and into this we will always
return
you and i,
we are the keys that open
the door to our
memory of heaven

when the night in truth sets in there
is a certain time beyond time when not
much matters
and the darkness here and there pierced
with a white star,
now with the dime sized white moon
is lit with orange and purpled by street
lights
now in this wild time
when all the old rules go
we are floating on something new and nightly
and the troubles baked into us by day don't matter
and the freedom of tomorrow carries you
and me on this bed
on this car of hope and desire--and never was
there true desire without hope--
we are fired to love and give and take and love
and make our toes curl
and here are you
with the most earthly scents of your deepest places
upon me, holding you
caressing you
in tender fingers like the rails of infant cradles
able to to keep my baby from
dropping out tonight

This is how it should always be
When you are kissing me
Every night it comes to me this perfect
Fantasy of me and you an us
Your mouth on me
Hands holding me
A light little prison
A safety belt to keep me soul
From flying
You stay with me
In me
And you are certain
This is the way it will always be
Even past morning

i think that i'm in love wih you
i think that i could wrap my legs
around you
i think i would build at least
a piece
of my world around you
when you sleep i will dance around you
when you're awake move above you
this is the twenty-five minute
giving of myself to you
this is the two hour marriage of
my body to you
open to you
under and all above you
almost in love you

in praise of the shabby body
the plump bottom
the tummy
in praise of the full thight
the lean and hungry chest
the scars from back screws
in praise of the wild bush
and one eye a little smaller
than the other
and all the other
things that have not been air brushed
i praise the smoker, the drinker
the one who refuses to exercise
i praise the heavy balls
the hitherto fat roll, the legs too short
that other type is too busy
taking its clothes off snapshotting
in the mirror to ever take his
clothes off for you
or ever put himself in you
or anyone else
so all praise for anyone else
who bows to imperfection with
the balding dome
i praise the wrinkle about the eye
i praise all of this beauty
which is real beauty
and real booty

i believe that the cure for all our ills
is romance
i believe that the true belief
in impossibility is all that will
save us from mendacity
down the other roads we'll only be
an audience
half contented sitting in a studio, in a chair
on a couch substituting a studio
and be so engaged in the lives of others
we will not have started our own
though contrary to what i know
and only something i've
experience in half dreams
and fantasies
in poems that are prophecies
i believe in the dark gold lover
the chocolate and brandy lover
i believe there is someone not only
who will take me away, lift up this
body made heavy by years,
by small visions, by doughnuts and
cigarettes
and i believe that by that same power
i could lift him too
could lift you
out of this mendacity

FUCKER

you came as this beautiful
young stripper who could charge
anything for your favors
but all you charged me was love
coming through looping labrynthine
paths to the dusky room where i stayed
straying in and coming out of your clothes
planting your hands on me
me planting my hands on you
those hips,
sucking the life from you
until your head arched back and you shot
out salty goodness
good like the first waters of
the new earth
from whence all life came



ii



when next you came as a heavy
silly man
in multi colored glasses,
shambling,
a mess,
i hardly knew you
but for the taste of your cock
and i slithered over it
again and again
let myself be pinned
under the bigness of your body
till we were caught in your room
like birds in a thicket
like foxes in a hen house
by your laughing friends

you started in shock
but i caressed your balding head
and your furry ass
and said
peace,
be still

iii



the last time you were this thug
ass motherfucker whose daddy lived downstairs
in the other apartment
of our designer crackhouse
and though you were younger
you were bigger
big like a mountain
colored like lemon and the sun
like the sour lemony taste between your
thighs
like the tang and scent in my nose
and as we went at it
i said lie close
so close to the floor
there's a glass wall they can see through...

there is always a glass wall
they see through

've returned. i have no time for half
hearted passion
or measured lust
this is ihe time to open hands and arms
and love and legs to everything
the only way to be consumed
and to be melted is to be melted
by everything
there is nothing more than the anticipation
of you
there is nothing more than the view of your
body and holding your flesh to my
body and the only thing i have spent volumes
writing, i have spent hours and days
hoping for is this
electric
romance.

SANCTITY

Lips like heaven
paul saw seven
but your place is the eighth
faith in your thighs
love in your mouth
charity
the rarity of the roundness
of your secret hills
will—to ride the night
like a jockey in a derby
the whole night is the derby
and your are the most magnificent

SAINT BRIAN

This is for Brian
whose thighs were full
and met at an ass rising
and dusky like the waxing moon
soft as prayers and cusses
firm as faith
the sight of it makes me
sure that heaven smells of
deepest earth
and its gateway is all covered
in brown hairs

you came to me krastic
and humbly
fantastically
you opened me
with the praises raised
from your mouth and the kisses of your mouth
and your infinite tongue
and finally, your body across me
you in the country of me
the length of the tight body
pelted in black hair
touched me marvelously
the tight roundness of behind
and smell of breath
worked on me marvelously
in the depths of an Easter night
you made love to me masterfully
deep your kisses
you loved me krasticly!

on this sacrament, which i am convinced,
is placed on
every altar there is no blood,
but only life
and i am now the universal mother,
doing only what a father can do, pinioned
under you, giving up my pole,
like a cross or a pillar, or a breast
to your mouth so that you can enter
the second childhood, so that you
can feed and feed on my seed
and we are both transported
out of ego into longing
to becoming' to freeing,
to being
all that lonely, dough
faced men envision,
watching expensive videos while they
jism and waste away
we
were on fire
we were bright day

christian kindness carries its
own cruelty
and nine tenths of the time the ones
who bear it wear a bible round their
necks and while they let us know they
take up their crosses boldly,
there is no hiding it,
we are the ones who waste our
time carving it all the day
now that the day has come
and not the twilight
do not with weary faces
and woebegone expressions
celebrate your jesus
now that yellow touches the sky
do not dress in black and grey and go
on and on about rules and duty
as yet, fed on saint paul and bleached
out purity
we haven't learned about the pleasure

beyond the rolled away stone
was the sweet smell
of magdalene's perfume
and of the grass just grown

now that you have come back i don't
know what to do.
i have made a mythology of suffering
and dealing with you,

 of taking wounds
into myself again and again
now that you are here how will i ever
make sense of pleasure, how will i
ever celebrate the joys of lust fulfilled
of the time we wheeled about and
rolled in bed all night long
springs creaking till dawn
and to the light on lilies

clearly, i don't know how to
deal with resurrection

PALM SUNDAY

and now
after the scourging
after the pillar and the slap on the face
and how everyone tried to capitalize on
my devotion
and I tried to make it fit in
there is the procession of palms
we’re all holding fronds
and none of us is dancing.
Catholics want to sing
they want to jubilate
but who knows how?
here in the Midwest
where the daffodils push up through the ice
what counts, what’s best is to be nice
in our khakis and Oxford blue shirts

But I want to be intoxicated

God when you rode an ass into the church
when you drove out the changers and the ushers
and the priests
and everyone carrying on
trying to be someone
carrying on their backs carcasses
and corpses
and corpses
of names
and titles
and dignities
lord,
what I did was take off my shoes
and take of my tie
all dignity flies
in the face of something more
that after searching
scourging
reading
fasting
resisting

i just want to be crazy

i just want to be mad
i just want to wander and sit on the floor of your house
drunk with jesus
and everyone who sees us
will think we’re mad
and that could be the end

“There is a tree” they sing
“There is a tree”
faraway
on a green hill…
on a hill
and if this ecstasy kills
then is there room on your cross for me?

I I

it has taken too long and too many wounds
to get the shadow of peace in this house
how, if i'd just closed my eyes, would it have come?
and i am tired of looking for love
where it will not come
ataring into the pool, waiting for
the sunken ball to glow

i have given myself to grim master, over and over
again
and for all alleged sin,
pluto won't take me in

unclench your fists in the sanctuary
after the sackcloth time of waiting
bury all sadness in snow and sin

i do believe the Dark King of all
my dreams is beyond the door
waiting for me

let the king and queen of love come in

IN THE WEEK OF PALM SUNDAY

and now it appears you will not
be coming back
anyone who ever had the desire to change my
life never stayed in it beyond five minutes
ah, and i thought you were it
ah, and i spent three weeks dabbing
the wound, knitting the tear
when you had left
and now i know it is true
to forgive is to forget

wipe yourself in sun, and go on
love is all around
dust yourself up, anything you thought would come from him
will most certainly come again

jarred by the picture of your face
i remember the brownness of you
startled by the elfin perfection of your little body
in love with the length of cock
with the walnut sack, with the smell of
cologne and that late summer time mercy
when in a hurry you came to my house and in a moment were
naked before me
in a moment were inside
and we collided again and again
and i held you then
i became the earth and the mother
and you the husband, and you the
elf
and you the child
in a while
there will be another such wind
and then goddess of easter
and lust will send you again

it is best, it is best
to live in readiness
down with these tired eyes
down with these sharply held shoulders
down with the mantra"
life is full of disappointments
though it be
down with the protest
the animal duress
it is best
it is best to live in readiness
knowing tha no one else will ever be ready
the heady wine of life boiling in you
will simply have to be quinched
men and women for
centuries have been lynched
or lynched themselves for
being too excited

this is life to me
to enter into that union where my tongue shocks
and delights you in your deepest parts
not to wait for you to rule
all of me
that is to fear my own choices
but that our voices might rise as one
in holy orgasm

only this i want
to eat passionately through to the
center of things

all of my dreams are haunted by insecurities
and dread of what i haven't kearned
what i can't earn
in the moment of baptism
we learn only this
to eat through to the center of things
to kiss god full and all over
to be his lover

the kingdom of god is for reprobates and
fools
i have to believe that it is simply not the
sort of place for safety
if you have spent a lifetime making yourself at home
in this world
you will not find a happy home in the next
there is something about people who spend time carving out
zion
that resist the signs of the real thing striking
the earth
come to me
all ye who are fucked up
and i will give you rest
all ye who are heavily pissed
and disappointed and find rest here for your souls
all ye who have skill and suspicion
to see the narrow gate past the bony fingers
of dull and unimaginative old white men
come
and then
find the bridegroom and rest

there is a reason it is a cross
only at the crossroads could there be
such a necessary meeting
i need to make peace with the world
and not just a dreary truce
i need to make love with the world
and acknowledge with true knowledge
that they knew not what they did
i hid myself in the river
i need to love
to forgive

i
am in love
and that is why my heart is broken
i
am in God
and that is why i am his temple
i
am a rug
that's why i am simple
and you can walk across me and be lost in all
my spirals
and my roses
this is where the world is
those are where galaxies live
this is all i have to give

this is the three o'clock in the morning
time which i live for. this is the end of all things
when i carry myself to bed,
carefully, like one on a more than acid trip
and in the wee hours, the whole world stretches and time
is like taffy and light is unending and darkness descends
into the dimness of two am
and then
i am amniotic floating into something
onto something
which is
the world of dreaming which is the world
of clear seeing
and maybe clear loving
for just one moment my red heart is exposed
will it ever end, will this be fulfilled
will the one i love come back to me?
and then i know
if it will be done, if will be done in this moment
if you were come back to me, it will have to be here
in the gold abyss or not at all
if there is to be a home it must be this
stretched out one, hot and pulled out,
burning like glass
seeing as God made the world at three
in the morning