Tuesday, January 27, 2009

new poem

Dream #1

When I step from the entrance
to Tina's loft of
flashy narcotics and\or-forget the or-
intercourse between strangers
I see a kitten whose dark eyes burn
through whatever is left of me.

There were many men with pinpointed
pupils and oversized jackets
on the way home,
and when I say "home" I really
mean your mother's house because your
mother-your lovely mother-has sex with
many young and waifish men and yes, I
happen to be one of them

believe me, this is nothing personal.

Earlier, before I ventured to
Tina's, I had a dream in which
I was chasing an unnamed nymphette
from my glitchy past through a
shopping mall. She turned a corner
and I lost her, but no, the dream was
not over because later I saw her
face-to-face at her parents' place where
we first locked eyes and I tried to glue
my melting face to yours

but failed.

The next night, awake, no one,
not even Tina and her
shapely cohorts could replicate
the last dream I would have before
dying between two ravaged buildings

surrounded by
these strange men with

and oversized

In closing,
I pray you are somewhere
far from danger,
still waiting for me to
steal medicine from
your mother's secret cabinent.

Goodbye, Bug-Eyes.

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