Bitten by a kissing bug in Puerto Escondido, Mexico
I saw the little bugger in my room
but don't remember if after or before the attack
yet unknown to my gringo eyes, I didn't recognize the insect then
Apropos for the horny old bastard which 'tis me
to be killed by an unwanted kiss
now, 15 years later, megacolon joins the melancholy
her symptoms are my massage, and sepsis shall be my doom
Let them out, set them free
All the demons inside
Seek the eye of the storm
There is no place to hide
Air it out, let it go
All the longing you feel
Find the truth in the fact
There is no better deal
My humanity 'tis devoid
worthless, powerless
rancid, like rotten bananas
putrid but fruitless
My art 'tis debauched
unworthy, meaningless
sickly, like stale root beer
creamy yet soured
Every word counts
Every word stays
Pieces of us
Gilding the page
Every word waits
Every word lasts
Poignant or plain
Flying half-mast
Every word weighs
Every word means
Lost but long-lived
Spilling our beans
Hanging out in Lahaina with my friend Christian Dave
playing games as chess jones, 'pon the sea wall all day
Along comes a kid who thought himself to be gangster
as he lured me with a jibe I waltzed in to challenge her
but I soon looked away, and he kissed me a right cross
moved my jaw with great force, offered up pain-n-loss
Yet my great spirit stepped in, so wonderful her sound
as she went forth high wind, burnt Lahaina to ground!
Just sit right down and scribe the words
some shall be golden, a few will be turds
Only let yourself dwell in boxes o'absurd
your mind 'pon the pen, as free as a bird!
I should simply pop up with something
I want to write the novella but I'm done
my atomic energy levels shan't allow it,
what can I say having yet to been said?
what then remains long after I'm dead?
Is being a poet a worthwhile of causes?
may odes heal the world, lessen losses!
I'm here 'pon my arse, pen moving fast,
'tis everything good to be a poet at last!
Life is heavy as big boulders
Booming down steep mountainsides
Massive much worn rocky masses
Rolling bumpy random rides
Life is also light as feathers
Floating in the weightless breeze
Plumages of barbuled branches
Bringing grown men to their knees
Life is leaden and yet fragile
Rushing on full steam ahead
Solid hefty fleeting echoes
Hanging by the thinnest thread
Tire spinning at high rpm ejecting sand and rock,
going round and round with the same poor result
desiring to move on yet always in the same place
I tell myself this time outcomes shall be different
believe the endless slip finally reaches a solution
think I'll pop out and begin my forward progress,
but forever I remain the same old, sad, stuck guy!
Oh, just one more poem before my lovely ends
our last 'tis much sweeter then the new begin
I won't get any help as there is no Lord or God,
I'd better pen one now, I can't be writing then!
Drink right up till closing time
Lapping up oak-barreled fun
Bottoms up right to the end
Certain as the setting sun
