------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ One Nite In San Francisco
I crawled out of bed
still drunk
and proceeded to piss
all over the cold hardwood floors of our bedroom
“What are you doing?”
my boozed bladder bursting forth its contents:
“Taking a piss.”
getting excited she noted,
“It’s getting all over the floor!”
“Don’t worry, it’ll all run out under the door.”
I finished pissing and went back to sleep
the Haight was a beautiful place then
she really loved me
Sometimes This Life
“Sometimes I think that this life is
just a dream,
that this life is
years and years long
and in my other life
this life is just a few hours long;
real short.
Then when I die in this life,
I wake up from my dream in the
other life.”
she turned to me,
“You think that’s stupid?”
“No baby, of course not.”
“You ever think there will
ever be a
nuclear war?”
“I don’t know.
I hope not.
But it’s something we’ve gotta be
responsible for.
All of us.
Not just here in the United States,
but all people everywhere.
This world belongs to
everyone.
I mean if it meant the
extinction
of humanity,
then there would be
no life at all.
No animals,
no plants,
nothing.”
the sky was
cold and dark
and clean as slate
schools of twinkling stars
wrestled with the darkness
a brilliant moon sent
steel moonlight
giving a
cool glow
to the Hollywood Freeway
I was late for work
she was beautiful
and I loved her
she looked up thru the windshield
and into the night,
“Moon sure looks pretty tonight, huh?
It really does look like
there’s a face on it,
doesn’t’ it?”
“Yeah.
But he always looks
so sad.”
“Probably because no one
will listen.”
I dropped Sharon off in
Santa Monica
and raced back to
Hollywood in my
’63 Dart
I was half an hour
late
for work
Love Came Home Late Last Nite
And Fell Asleep In Front Of The Television
love wanders down
streets
sometimes crowded
sometimes empty
full of living
and dying
love staggers blind in a drunken rage
wages wars and
hunts for answers
afraid of being
left alone
it is penance for those that
cannot
live with themselves
only
it is a bad cookbook
and a nasty bout of the flu
that keeps coming back stronger each time
it enters the room and announces itself
calls itself
friend and lover
forgets to call or write after it is
gone
but never really
forgotten
love is running for president
and starring in the new fall line up on
every bad comedy invention
it is a musical comedy nightmare on
4 wheels
2 legs
and one eye in the back of its head
winking in the rain
dancing to the frantic
rhythms of
I want you now
and
don’t you know how I really feel
and
why don’t you love me?
love is homeless and
out of work
with too many children in need of a
place to stay
and no matter what the
question
love is still
the
only
answer Psycobabble
out of the bushes we all hear,
"LARRY!!!!!???? LARRY!!!!!!????
YOU SONOFABITCH,
DON'T YOU FUCKING
TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!!!!!
LAAAARRY!!!!!!!????"
the bushes repeat this
invective driven rant
a few times
seconds later
a small blonde woman
maybe 5 foot & 100 lbs.
65 or so
emerges from the screaming shrubbery
with a cell phone
planted on her head
dividing the sidewalk before her
with every
step she
takes
the door swings open
as some poor schmuck
walks out of the coffeehouse
& makes the mistake of crossing
her path
she wheels on the dude
with the deft agility of a trained dancer
& without hesitation
screams at him with the ferocious force of
sudden thunder, "YOU!!!!!????
WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS
BOTHERING ME!!!!!!"
the poor guy scared shitless
just stares blankly at the
tiny woman
slack jawed
& speechless
she leaves him stone cold
in the wake of her
Medusa routine
& we can hear her as she
advances past us
around the corner
still laying it down,
"LARRY!!!!!????
LARRY!!!!!????
LARRY!!!!?????
WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU
LARRY!!!!?????"
then "SUCK ME!!!!!!"
as more men coming from the
other direction
are laughing &
scratching their heads
finally, a yellow cab comes
to take her away
her head still
rooted to the phone
somebody screams at the cab
as it pulls into traffic,
"GOODBYE!!!!!
SEE YA LATER LARRY!!!!"
sucking a sugar rip
cradled on fingertip
like a lethal love song
his knuckles & digits
bruised brown with nicotine
the screenwriter sitting next to me
takes copious notes
for his next big
fix
the clouds play tag
with the sun
there will be
more rain
Cat Past 9
stepped in fucking catshit
(again)
& tracked it
all around the
fucking
front
room
I only got hip to it
because the shit stink
started gimping my sinuses
& wouldn't let me go
I am so tired of cat puke & cat shit
the cats are becoming
incontinent spinsters
their hair
everywhere
soon
they will be
in diapers
the 3rd cat
(our youngest)
will no doubt go on for another
10 years beyond these 2
I love the cats
but I don't love the spots everywhere
or the punk stench of catshit
they eat
they piss
they puke
they sleep
they shit
they scream
they tear up the furniture
they make it impossible to
go away for a weekend
they, they, they...
I do my best
to care for them
& make their way as easy
as I possibly can
but it is okay to vent, isn't it?
this is all a rehearsal, right?
they're good for
petting
& sticking to your side
like hairy
sidearms
with the life force
of pyramids
they are old
we love them
they love us
back
fuck, when I get there
please just give me the big kiss
send me away sweetly, sweetly...
down into the heart of darkness
where Marlon Brando's big bald head
determines the turn of the tide
& Hopper is lysergically dividing the air,
"IF IF IF IF IF IF IF IF IF - HE SAID IF, MAN!"
upriver
where the war
flickers away with the end titles
as they call in the air strike
obliterating icons
flesh & the tongue
of a once
very ancient &
glorious
civilization
all future plans
cancelled
& we drive away
returning safely to our
small print contract
with the
New Year
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