the birds

and then I gave it all away

after we are gone

i want to taste the fruits again

child inside the night

paradise

sleep

the silence

Or when
the moon
in daylight

hangs
like
forgiveness
in the
morning
air;

you
have
nothing
to fear

it loves
you

and
has seen
it all
before.

Moon

Come
inside me
silver wound
and I
shall step
within
your orbit;
it is late now,
winter,
and nobody
needs
to know.

Acanthus
or tobacco
leaves,
something
broad
enough
to hide
you.

My Bowery Loft

So here I am in my Bowery loft,
start the day with a start-up and end it with a Zoloft;

There on my wall is a Damien Hirst,
John Lennon's head and Yoko Ono's purse;

When I open my window I can hear the sound
of Joey Ramone turning in the ground.

lies

Because every single one of them lied
And flattered our drooping national pride;

Because the best thing since sliced bread
Is watching your white skin turn to red

As you sit and get pissed on a beach in Spain
And take back control, then lose it again.

Cherish

your frailty;

the crack

in the

mirror

your rice

paper 

heart

within

that 

place

you 

hide away

is the 

fissure

that opens

and

gives

away

your soul

it is 

the valley

from 

which

we came,

the rift

from 

whence 

we all

depart.

I sat
all morning
in front
of a tree

it was
a cedar,
the day
before
the solstice

I let
the cold
possess me,
became one
with the
shortening
light

tomorrow,
and then
tomorrow

still
among
silent
cedars.

Go out
and let the rain
fleck your face
with kisses

sometimes 
happiness
looks like this

the pump 
run dry,
a meeting

or a slow
progression
in the mist
to nowhere.