what on earth is this thing in my chest beating for?
this fist fullof blood inmy chesthas beatenwell over abillion timesalreadyi've donethecalculations& todayi wonderwhat it'dsound likeall at once40 yearsof beatingover abillionbeatsatoncebut a betterquestion might be:what on earthare thosebillion beatspounding upon?love's door?or is itmeaninglessly beatingupon anexit?that mute placebeyond numbers& calculations& love, yesbeyond love...

6 feet 8 inches & still lost
thomas wolfedead at 38smoked 60cigarettes& drank 20 cupsof coffeeper dayso tallhe wrotewhilestandingusingthe topof hisrefrigeratoras awritingsurfacehe was8 inches tallerthan the depthof a grave& that toweringlonely frametold usabout beinglostabout not beingable to gohome anymore& i think of himwhenever thefridge doorsqueaks open& i eatcold meatoff a bonein bedaloneat 2:15 amcigarette sm

poetry doesn't begin w/a lump in the throat but rather w/a hand grenade...
that old softy robert frost said thaton his stone he wanted written:"i had a lover's quarrel with the world"i don't desire a stone but if i did i'd want:"he had pistol whipping fist fightsw/this godless son-of-a-bitchin' world"

why's everyone living like they're driving in the slow lane w/their hazard lights on
yesterday i got a blow outgoing 80 mphafter the car quit swervingi pulled onto the shoulderthe rubber was shreddedthe lugs nuts were stuckbig rigs thundered byas i crouched strugglingw/the tire ironi got the tire offthe old compact car shiftingon the rusty jack& finally tightened the 'donut'the tiny spare that comesw/the carit warns not to go over30 mph w/it oni got back in& punched the gas& hit 70then i noticed in the rearviewthat a hearse, of all thingswas behind meits headlights shining on a s

cold egg rolls & lukewarm black coffee
i eat a cold egg roll& sip lukewarm black coffeestaring out the windowat the leavesi prefer it whentrees stand dying& flowers witherwhen nature quitsbeing ambitioushow does one failto become modestin october?but still i see themgreedy as everas the leaves falli wish money'd turnbrown & crumble tooif only for a short while