BAUDELAIRE
I walk on water in my poems, using the lily pads
Of the sidewalk homeless as stepping-stones.
Iâd stop to talk, but they donât have cell phones.
Their alcoholic faces come in various plaids.
A terrorist in his underwear,
Shaving in the steam, wipes the bathroom mirror clearer.
I see, while death is near, life is nearer.
My shaven skin is softer than the air.
The tugboat thrusts itself into the fluid to begin,
Backs out, chug, chug, tug, tug, digs in,
Que câest bon, this is how, fowl and fang and fin.
The gulls, looking down at the meal down there, scream and grin.
His hands are in the basin washing, crashing.
His brain is on a boardwalk walking.
Her bigs donât stop stalking.
The mirror is asking for a thrashing.
Iâm standing at a sideboard carving a wild duck I shot a lot.
My bullfrog croaks.
My unit smokes.
My Mumbai is hot. My Bali spits snot. Iâve shot what Iâve got.
Now itâs time for the plane Iâm on to come down
In pieces of women and men.
The anxiety increases in Yemen when
They pat me down in case I have something under my Muslim gown,
And I do.
I have a device.
In Paris, it had lice.
I went to Dr. Dax, who was distinguished. He knew.
Dax regarded my twenty-four-year-old thing
With barely disguised disgust.
I could see him thinking: Iâm a doctor. Itâs his thing. I must.
O thing, where is thy sting? Dr. Dax made the prisoner sing.
It took a shirt of Nessus wrapped around my penis
To get rid of the crabs.
The burning ointment got lovingly applied by Babsâ
Penis burned at the stake by Venus!
Babs of the beautiful fesses
Was Babette, comtesse dâEeks.
Our Lady of the Heavenly Cheeks
Would turn over onto her stomach to receive a special caress.
In those days before airport security,
A terrorist could spread his wings and fly.
One poet lived his life in the sky,
While the maid did his laundry and a countess oiled his impurity.
The maid was Charles Baudelaire.
I live my life in the air.
Life is inherently unfair.
I donât care.
iPHOTO
The second woman shines my shoes.
The other takes my order, curtseys. Thank you, sir.
Others stand there in the rain so I can mount them when I choose.
Itâs how protective I
Can be that keeps them going. Look at her:
She clicks her heels together, bowing slightly. Try
To put yourself in her shoes: boots, garter belt, and veil.
Sheâs amused
To be a piece of tail.
Sheâs smiling. Is she really so amused? Iâve recused
Myself from judging whether that means sheâs abused.
So far Iâve refused
To let myself be called confused.
I hope these photos of St. Louis will be used.
A FRIEND OF MINE
âI walked in the door and into so much light
My eyesight did a kind of tremolo.
The living room began to snow
Cartwheels and pixels. You know what,
Peopleâs lives together are complicated.
They are quiet,
Complicatedly. My heart
And me get lost in the forest, afraid.
Yet I would choose you to lead me
To the clearing. I see
Your instincts are correct.
You ask the right questions.
You donât mind the answers!
When I move East for good next month
Maybe I will spread my wings
With happiness and soar.
Or I will shout wheee as I plummet downward.
Ah, but in my new New York apartment,
I am only on the fourth floor.
So I will hit the ground quickly!â
DO NOT RESUSCITATE
The mummy in the case is coming back to life.
It sits up slowly. I canât bear it.
The guard pays no attention. He knows it is my wife.
Her heart sits blinking on her shoulder like a parrot.
I get up from my bed, woozily embalmed, and itâs
Another gorgeous New York day to try to live.
I loved my wife to bits in fits. I loved her tits.
Her bandaged mummy mouth had nothing else to give.
The man canât stay awake. He wakes and sleeps.
Itâs either age or itâs his medications.
Heâs giving me the creepsâ
All the
I walk on water in my poems, using the lily pads
Of the sidewalk homeless as stepping-stones.
Iâd stop to talk, but they donât have cell phones.
Their alcoholic faces come in various plaids.
A terrorist in his underwear,
Shaving in the steam, wipes the bathroom mirror clearer.
I see, while death is near, life is nearer.
My shaven skin is softer than the air.
The tugboat thrusts itself into the fluid to begin,
Backs out, chug, chug, tug, tug, digs in,
Que câest bon, this is how, fowl and fang and fin.
The gulls, looking down at the meal down there, scream and grin.
His hands are in the basin washing, crashing.
His brain is on a boardwalk walking.
Her bigs donât stop stalking.
The mirror is asking for a thrashing.
Iâm standing at a sideboard carving a wild duck I shot a lot.
My bullfrog croaks.
My unit smokes.
My Mumbai is hot. My Bali spits snot. Iâve shot what Iâve got.
Now itâs time for the plane Iâm on to come down
In pieces of women and men.
The anxiety increases in Yemen when
They pat me down in case I have something under my Muslim gown,
And I do.
I have a device.
In Paris, it had lice.
I went to Dr. Dax, who was distinguished. He knew.
Dax regarded my twenty-four-year-old thing
With barely disguised disgust.
I could see him thinking: Iâm a doctor. Itâs his thing. I must.
O thing, where is thy sting? Dr. Dax made the prisoner sing.
It took a shirt of Nessus wrapped around my penis
To get rid of the crabs.
The burning ointment got lovingly applied by Babsâ
Penis burned at the stake by Venus!
Babs of the beautiful fesses
Was Babette, comtesse dâEeks.
Our Lady of the Heavenly Cheeks
Would turn over onto her stomach to receive a special caress.
In those days before airport security,
A terrorist could spread his wings and fly.
One poet lived his life in the sky,
While the maid did his laundry and a countess oiled his impurity.
The maid was Charles Baudelaire.
I live my life in the air.
Life is inherently unfair.
I donât care.
iPHOTO
The second woman shines my shoes.
The other takes my order, curtseys. Thank you, sir.
Others stand there in the rain so I can mount them when I choose.
Itâs how protective I
Can be that keeps them going. Look at her:
She clicks her heels together, bowing slightly. Try
To put yourself in her shoes: boots, garter belt, and veil.
Sheâs amused
To be a piece of tail.
Sheâs smiling. Is she really so amused? Iâve recused
Myself from judging whether that means sheâs abused.
So far Iâve refused
To let myself be called confused.
I hope these photos of St. Louis will be used.
A FRIEND OF MINE
âI walked in the door and into so much light
My eyesight did a kind of tremolo.
The living room began to snow
Cartwheels and pixels. You know what,
Peopleâs lives together are complicated.
They are quiet,
Complicatedly. My heart
And me get lost in the forest, afraid.
Yet I would choose you to lead me
To the clearing. I see
Your instincts are correct.
You ask the right questions.
You donât mind the answers!
When I move East for good next month
Maybe I will spread my wings
With happiness and soar.
Or I will shout wheee as I plummet downward.
Ah, but in my new New York apartment,
I am only on the fourth floor.
So I will hit the ground quickly!â
DO NOT RESUSCITATE
The mummy in the case is coming back to life.
It sits up slowly. I canât bear it.
The guard pays no attention. He knows it is my wife.
Her heart sits blinking on her shoulder like a parrot.
I get up from my bed, woozily embalmed, and itâs
Another gorgeous New York day to try to live.
I loved my wife to bits in fits. I loved her tits.
Her bandaged mummy mouth had nothing else to give.
The man canât stay awake. He wakes and sleeps.
Itâs either age or itâs his medications.
Heâs giving me the creepsâ
All the
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