Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the simplest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick. I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore:
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men.
I'm due to fall in love again.

Experience

Some men break your heart in two,
  Some men fawn and flatter,
Some men never look at you;
  And that clears up the matter.

Reuben's Children

Accursed from their birth they be
Who seek to find monogamy,
Pursuing it from bed to bed ---
I think they would be better dead.

(space for stitching)

UNDER PENALTY OF LAW THIS

SEX NOT TO BE REMOVED

EXCEPT BY THE CONSUMER

ALL OLD MATERIAL

CONSISTING OF

80% AUDACIOUS BRAVERY

20% ESCAPISM

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REGISTRY NO.

CA. 101074

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NOTICE

THIS PERSON MEETS THE

FLAMMABILITY

REQUIREMENTS OF

SAN FRANCISCO SINGLE SCENE

TECHNICAL BULLETIN 117.

CARE SHOULD BE EXERCISED

NEAR OPEN WHISKEY, WINE

OR WITH BURNING

CIGARETTES.

--------------------------------------------

The orange words of this rainbow trout

Burble through kaleidoscope glass.

Slip-slide-rush over rocks.

Carry regret downstream

Hooked mouth tethered to filament,

then pole.

Cast and reel and

bait, re-bait,

Repeat-

Catch and gut and

fillet and eat,

But enjoy?

Yellow Tape Blazes

"Do   Not   Cross".

Outlines Fallen Wings

O  u  t  s  t  r  e  c  h  e  d

Gore, clots caking

Gradually removed by

Casual soles stomping.

"Didn't you see the tape? This is a fucking crime scene!"

Grimaces some new CSI

Nudging Glasses Bridge-ward

Inspecting Errant Feather

Four feet south of Atrocity.

Grape gum landed in my

EMOTIONAL CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS EMOTIONAL CRIME SCENE

Some kid spit it into what he thought was

Ketchup

Splattered packets stomped

Sometime last Tuesday lunch.

Evidence will be bagged

But not remembered

This half-life

Of memory

Will blow feathers

South of home.

This crime scene

Will be cleaned

Midnight :01 to 6 a.m., Friday

Pam Tomb

Because never again happened four times last week,

Yellow tape blazes "Emotional Crime Scene".

The CSI's have all come to frolic

in the garish gore left behind.

Yellow tape blazes "Emotional Crime Scene"!

Everyone silently smoked American Spirit Yellows

in the garish gore left behind;

Things got odd for all.

Everyone silently smoked American Spirit Yellows

shifting weight half-smiling.

Things got odd for all;

Drama is over-rated.

Shifting weight half-smiling,

sick with furious hysterics-

Drama is over-rated;

The chalk outline will dissipate, soon.

Sick with furious hysterics,

the CSI's have all come to frolic.

The chalk outline will dissipate, soon,

Because never again happened four times last week.

When will I grow up?

But I've always been this way,

Now I'm "older" yet the same.

Why do I play this game?

But my body wants to shake-

 "Stop Now!" before too late.

Who turns the will of Fate?

How can everything seem wrong

When only one piece isn't strong?

What makes me belong?

These illusive qualities

Invisible to even me.

When will I learn to breathe?

Enjoying moments as they are

Until they come with C.P.R.

Should I  escape the bar?

You know I wouldn't dare.

Gulping more than my fair share.

Fuck my silly issues.

Get me a box of tissues.

First there was bacon.

Crispy sizzled strips.

My heart was taken,

Bathed in greasy drips.

Next there was pork loin.

Butterflied  thinly.

Three cheeses to join

Cream sauce is the key.

Oh My! Chorizo!

Scary ground pieces.

Spiced in adobo,

Red oil releases.

Pig is the lobster of the land;

Every last part of it is grand.

Pancho Villa-

You've saved me again.

Steak and Prawn Savior

Curing night's shaky beer hangover.

Blaze into my intestine

Attack bowel s with jalapenos/cilantro

"Finally, some vegetables!" Colon shrieks joyously

Clapping and bouncing street side

 Taking Polaroids on a zebra burro of protein.

You will slip into my body-

Aided by Tecate.

Another side of peas, please.

Another side of side.

"Wash hands!" Foodborne disease, Sleaze.

"No mains for me"; I lied.

I want you for entrée today,

Tomorrow after that,

I'd stand in line at your buffet,

But won't feast on your scat.

I can't have you as my side.

I've done too many dishes.

I need to eat you all the time,

Because you are delicious.

A flock of origami cranes

Wrinkle into the bar

Brushing paper fingertips;

Flap lice laden wings

Into your face.

Tiny talons cling framesidedown

Smiling one eyed fearless

Into your whirling fan.

Claim unclaimed pastry

Little sparrow,

Before shoes crush sugary bits into concrete.

The dead feather's street side

Downy stick to fresh tar pebbles

Coughed from young smoke lung

Now slick with frothy desperation.

And my paper wings

Fly out your palm.