4, 5, 6 of 14

Here are the 4th, 5th and 6th of the 14 poems I read last Sunday at Jim’s Coffee House and Cafe in Elyria Ohio, a weekly reading hosted by John ‘Jesus Crisis’ Burroughs. As you can see, this was a very varied reading.

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I’m For Falling

Whining want weeps
Its winning way
From fool tool TV
Via too much tit
And botoxed brain
Showing shallow twits
In xeroxed pain
Damn little give
Whole lotta take
Turning from sun
To burning lake

I’m for falling
Falling down
Falling through air
Calling cloud
Free from err
Free from want
From wanting more
Free of lust
Of money whore
Free to trust
The ever more

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52 Blues

Blues rocking my notion
Blues quaking my earth
Blues causing commotion
Blues life’s afterbirth

Blues empty my wallet
Blues hole in my ace
Blues whatever you call it
Blues winning the race

Blues bogarting boardroom
Blues suffering’s shame
Blues heavy in hordes loom
Blues down dirty game

Blues stomping the Savoy
Blues blowing the blame
Blues exploding the convoy
Blues shattershot aim

Blues hoodooing abuse
Blues burgeoning bicker
Blues clogging the clues
Blues secretly snicker

Blues in my pockets
Blues in my hair
Blues my eye sockets
Blues body snare

Blues ain’t got a women
Blues too many gals
Blues darkening domain
Blues breaking my pals

Blues harmonica crying
Blues electric guitar
Blues slow night dancing
Blues wherever you are

Blues just ain’t my am
Blues knot nature’s load
Blues a late night jam
Blues the midnight crossroad

Blues is selling your soul
Blues is crying your game
Blues is digging your hole
Blues is jazz rhythm rain

Blues sickens the sore
Blues unjustly jisms
Blues unevens the score
Blues happiness imprisons

Blues is the night’s shadow
Blues is the day’s glare
Blues is good time’s widow
Blues but might’s blare

Blues dark dank and dripping
Blues ark for the poor
Blues history’s shipping
Blues forevermore

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Unknown Nipple

Your nipple
Though we’ve yet to meet
Must surely seek to touch
My tongue’s erectile tissue
Which seeks south to nether musk
Past inward looking navel
Which wise in eastern ways
When rocked in western rhythm
Knows what in maya may
Be only sleek illusion
Wonders reaped and sown
In peaks before the valley
Down treasure’s traveled road
Where promise wraps forgiven
Its penis premised trap
Where truth in life is hidden
And minor deaths enact
Their furtive nightly burden
When joy it should be danced
And future fear forgiven
Like past purveyed by chance

Your eyes so solemn watching
Your lips promised pursuit
Your soul silent searching
Your heart no kindness fused
To form for wanting giving
To life its lift and shine
My love it spurts in wanting
Your flesh your spirit wine
Within your skin whenever
Blessings cross my brow
Profane in sacred wanting
Pure light enough for now
But o o unknown nipple
O mind of supple bliss
O soul unsullied, simple
On me bestow your kiss

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