Monthly Archives: April 2012

to jim morrison

if death turns you on

and sex and poetry

are loose immaculations,

i’m with you.


from ” to woodshed”


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my darker companion

ahh, my darker companion, bobby dylan
some kind of character study — from man
to monster — say he’s on the run now from
that crookeddirtyfuckin road he took —-
says they’ll put him in some place now, but
i got no dough man and you know that and
hell is a concept that you knew well, it’s not
somethin new — ahh, old friend i remember
you — as a jailbird, but first, a budding hustler,
a dreamy dealer who keeps his weed in the
freezer — i remember that lost fake guru; more lost
than we were, singin spirituals — i remember
marley and i remember the delta blues —
lookey yonder, buddha and nietzche wrestling
over you — i remember our drug taking scene
in the comfort room of a movie theater — i remember
the night you put off the flame of that tiny roach
with yer bare yellow fingers, i remember the grand
night you rolled and lit up that long thick joint for you
and me, i remember the night you mentioned you’re about
to fold, i remember you telling someone that you’re wiser
than your father and your mother too — shit, i remember you
as a wasted son of a bitch screaming at me — sleepless,
i remember you losing those dylan cd’s rain dogs
nick cave let it bleed — i remember you talked – shit yer way
out of that mess and every other mess you got yerself into —
we saw iggy pop back in 2004 on a street corner, twisting his
contours blabbing you were his bestfriend coz you sure got
the fix — i remember the stones thrown at us — ye who is clean
shall cast the first stone, jesus said — but dem don’t know jesus,
at least at that moment — just liked us — i remember those
three older men behaving just like us behaving just like them —
i remember the red lights flashing, the white noise of their sirens,
suspicious eyes, dope scored in my ass — nevermind those people
in that car crash, they’re dead just like us, so drive man and don’t look
back now — i remember you swallow that gun and thought they gonna
leave you dead. but money save yer ass and money you need to feed
yer bleeding monkey, to thread the night and day and to wake up on
a new morning — that, if you had the chance to sleep because they wouldn’t
let you — and time is a luxury that we all can waste and throw away and
it’s not your fault that you are weak and wicked and salvation never fails
to fall out from the sky — my apologies i’ll always remember you sayin,
my apologies you always say and you dig my poem way back coz you think
you’re the devil too — ahhh, those were the days and they never left — they
never left you — because there you are, still, breathing heavily
like a dog, a lousy dog, like a ghost… a blue sky that brings tears —
you probably can’t stand nowadays what you see in the mirror —
there’s no point of return now, it seems — and those cold empty
rooms are waiting, the same old dark and lonely nights are calling back.
these lifeless things are your friends now. it’s a long hard road, it will
take you far and beyond — and those vultures out there, they’re just
waiting for the next dead body to come along.

(for ronald andrew abano)

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from ” a mess of love poems “

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piece of cake

Be desperate.Have poems.


from ” the book of envy ”



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