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



There is a giant   Yellow t-shirted +rotund  on the

fire escape across the way   Every day  he gazes over

the parapet into the abyss   Long  hard  +deep   I see him

in the mornings when I have only just arisen from REM



He is the spitting image of the man in my dreams who

recurrently bellows: SECOND HALF OF LIFE!   Welcoming

me to my very own Divina Comédia   And reminding me of the

boy I therapied for 5 yrs.   Every single session began with lights

out   He would then shout: WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE!


Bedlam +debauchery would ensue   He +his bro had been sexually

abused by step-dad  + bro had began to molest him   They were 5+7

Several years later someone from stage left screamed: Which abyss can

you possibly be gazing into  Mrs. Therapist?


One where the future grows more uncertain everyday   Until there will not

be one  (You can take your 2nd half of life  and..)  At the same time  your religion

has become:  your family   beauty   not a little rock+roll   +boat loads of Don Julio

Yet it is also true that you remain certain of the fact:  that those are not clouds

They’re stairs









Summer 2017

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