yes, let's look at that.

call for reconcile.
the famished crock o dial.


the streets are buzzy at 130. you tell
me how you saw her today, a little more
a little less than what you want. you say
i think i should be alone for a while
and i say yes, knowing that a while
is never enough. knowing how falling into
bed without a way to wrap your arms
around more than pillow won't last too long.

why would i want you back? because you have
lived what i was for you, now. because
you could now be grateful for that but
you claim you always were tho you treated me
like shit. you don't want to open up
the psychic pathways between us again, it was
a trap that kept you anchored too long
in an untenable situation. now that you have
someone your age who has loved you you can see
how it should be. and how messed up i am.
but you still love me. i tell you under the interstate
that i still love you and you say i love you too.
but you mean luv and i mean love. i've
been leaving you for 9 months. time to birth
this goodbye for real. i didn't cry much
a few tears i had to dredge up and fry
like cheesecake with onions.

i will be powerless to stop now.
all this crap in my head pointing to nothings.
the willful disregard of silence.
the year of living magically almost over.
now it's painful to go back to where we were.
almost more so than actually being there.


that's prolly why you said, and this is the thing
your wisdom about things which i have no clue
or maybe i do have clues but i just can't state them
but i just can't live them. you sez look
we had something but that was then. we can't go
back to it. we can't rebirth into it. it was
and now it's not. you at least remember how bad
it got. and i do. i do. so. i was sad
cuz you are willing to give her a chance
and i think o if only i was younger you would have
maybe given me one too. or if i ws younger
if
if
if
hah. like possibility? no way.
i am where i am. i am there.
not anywhere before or after.

alone in my perceptions. no one
will ever see it like i do. and i can't
see it like any one else. i just hope
stupidly for a different pov.
and even with someone of my gen, it doesn't come.
i spit on convention and it pushes me off a tower.


so i see another soul with eyes
and i want to be with him as if jumping
from one to another will put me where i want to be.
in the arms of an angel. fly away from here.



if what you want is to play the fast lane
well there ya go. you dn't have the bod for it
or the personality.















maybe i begin to engage in the now again.
not some possible but what's happening now.
not to be too pragmatic. remember to write a poem
to get the say right.



it was funny to me that i was your fantasy
that you were too caught up in your upbringing
and the things that formed you. how black men
don't like to eat pussy. how differently we percieve
the things of this world. how you let me talk
and talk but nothing comes out of you.
i tried to get you to open up about carl sagan
philosophy, but you didn't want to
but you couldn't. as if what i could say about you
would damage you somehow. i'll forget your name, you
never had a name for me, you were that guy
wanting a lasting friendship wanting bullshit
to substitute for relationship. wanting sex
but unable to provide it. i think
that i am poison to passion now. i think
i think too much, need someone to listen
to me for a change but no one's really innarested.

not really. only you, you should be my first love.
you should take care of me, you should do my laundry
clean my bathroom, smoke my pot, put my makeup on,
brush my teeth. you should love me because i
am you.