The Crypt

I sat on a folding chair in the crypt.

The stone columns had been wrapped

In linoleum paneling, and on it were taped

Hundreds of crayon colored drawings

Of horses, firemen, carrot-nosed men,

Suns, Christmas trees, and Coca-Cola

Santa Clauses etched ecstatically

And jaggedly by young exultant fists.

There was a sign that said no smoking,

Another that said no dogs,

And it was strange to know, then,

That once Charlemagne had kneeled there.

slave to chance, kings, and desperate men

he opens up the search engine and types a few things:
"how do i make someone fall in love"
"how can i make somebody fall in love with me"
"how do you make someone fall in love with you"
"how do i tell if she's in love"
"how do i m"
"how do i make her fall in love with me"
"how long do i wait after first date"
"how many dates after first date to call back"
"having sex"
"refractory period"
"love isn't enough"

watch me jumpstart/notes for What Does Success Like v. 3

the question is really whether I want to be pete or toshi.

promotion or embodiment.

some days I think I can do both, but

then that doosh pollard shows up

and I get real in to my own esoterica while we rock out, and

I'm gonna make it, robert, you know I can.

I bet you don't even steam your own kale.

I TOOK HER FROM PLAAAACE TO PLACE

I MOVED HER FROM ROOOOM TO ROOM

I EXPLOITED HER, BECAME THE GROOM

SO I WRITE MUSIC FOR SOUNDTRACKS, NOW

I WRITE MUSIC FOR SOUNDTRACKS NOOOW

THAT'S WHAT I WAANTED TO DOO, ANYHOW

rambling

as i sit here

my heart grows heavy.

it is harder for me to stand

to think

to write

to do

anything

i don't really know what to think

should i even bother

that thought doesn't even cross my mind anymore

so things haven't always gone the way i'd like them to.

but is that so bad?

things sure would be boring if everything happened the way i wanted them to.

do i always enjoy the challenge? of course not

but when things do go my way

i can appreciate it

so

much

more...

She has been mine

Take breaks: and cloudily
arrange our conflagration.
Down the desk the papers wail.
And we make it fresh daily!

Taking a drink from her coffee she stared
into my eyes and coughed.
I couldn’t handle her longer.
Take me, La Secretary,
to the slope.

CHINESE DRAGON

Green silk

and ringing

bells--

scripting the

contour of say

thirty children.

A

Chinese

dragon is good.

It has thirty

beating

hearts.

THE CARPENTERS

Chlorinated, that
flower abundance

marigolds are floating
in a California pool

music is stupid music is right
on