"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



4 yrs. ago today  someone hungering for

alliteration +faint hope  + a poetry panacea?

smashed my car window +stole a small red

faux leather bag  curtesy of Vogue mag

Enticement to ennui+envy   I’m a loser baby

so why don’t you kill me..


Vogue May 2017:

(Pippa Middleton spent $15,000 at a spa pre-wedding

Her billionaire Scot with a castle in the highlands  whisked

her away in a Bugatti   2 outfits were requested of guests

for the day!)   


The day   also being the one that I spent at an inner city

hospital staving off depression+madmen as my old mother

was poked+prodded  Don’t think of Pippa Middleton

my mantra


The poems stolen from the little red satchel represented 6

months of slaving over the tortured birthing of Canada’s

female Bukowski   I tell you  those words were headed into

intricatefrenziedecstacy  One poem  about Neil Young  would

have catapulted me into G.G. Award territory


But they sit under a bush  pissed on by cats  Shat on by city

bats   Yellow+brown   Seeping into the ground  behind the AGO

The best I can do for those who stood by me  +read thousands

of words not too charmed by their own cleverness   is this:


Yesterday Gregg Allman died   Yes  of Cher (!) and Elijah Blue

Of heroin  + a penchant for the blues  running through  his veins

after father blown away by those bullets that explode inside of

flesh   Like shrapnel   Gregg was a boy   Later brother Duane

smashed up beyond recognition  on a Harley


Today saw a photo of the brothers  all naked by a pond  Southern Eden

Heroin-lean  about to unleash a  new sound   They cover their privates

like shy teen girls  but they still look so dirty  you can smell that smell

Of sweat+perversions   The one’s they’d be up to  on flea ridden mattresses

under full Macon moons










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