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Like Me, Love Me, or Leave
Up above or down below.
The question is the same.
Like the honey bird outside my window.
Here I am.
Love me or not.
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It’s only 4:10
That’s a funny poem.
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Honk Honk
Just another show…
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For You, Not Me
I did not choose my narcissism,
and the reflection I ponder
in still water
just below the falls
where nymphs still sing
is nothing, but disappointing.
My black hole sun,
my white/black hole,
my sunction pump—
my life effacer.
Why do our traumas
demand retribution?
If I dare be blunt,
I think therapists,
all the therapists
need to read
“The Furies”
before they dare
and try yet again
to treat PTSD.
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Just so you know…
Pushing hard on a collection
of 250 poems.
The title has been difficult,
but finally settled:
will i, will you
So there you have it.
Miss you all and the fantastic work
I discover here. I will be back,
…after I get this monster to behave.
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Goose – 4/28/23 The Warfield, San Francisco, CA (Full Show)
Wow! -
If I were a bee
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Peter Quince
The fabled author of “The Most Lamentable Comedy and Most Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisbe.” 🤭🤣🤣🤣
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My kind of heaven
Perhaps we sould just lay in the mown grass, over to the right, and whisper about our dreams for the next two weeks. You know, a giant passed through heading north, just beyond that last apple tree, a few years ago.
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Oneida Lake
Found myself two and a half hours northwest today, taking a breather at this locale. They call it the thumb of the Finger Lakes— 20 miles wide and 5 miles across. The water was as clear as what they sell us to drink wrapped in plastic. Probably full of microplastics none the less.