don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

I DREAMED that one had died in a strange place
Near no accustomed hand,
And they had nailed the boards above her face,
The peasants of that land,
Wondering to lay her in that solitude,
And raised above her mound
A cross they had made out of two bits of wood,
And planted cypress round;
And left her to the indifferent stars above
Until I carved these words:
She was more beautiful than thy first love,
But now lies under boards.

I've got an ache
Deep in my chest
I can't seem to stop the bleeding
From my veins
Their pouring out my secrets
Telling the world all my mistakes
I've got a death wish
With my name on it
Maybe I wished it myself
Maybe I didn't

we stroll around the city till the sun sets.
i glance over the clouds
while you're next to me

both of us
-strangers
-tourists
in the city
we got lost into the city and so do in ourself
babe, i found you
beautifully
imperfect
and i show you my flaws and scars
the ugly side of me

yet you smiled
and keep on looking foward
i dont know wherr are you taking me to this strange city
but somehow i feel home whenever you touched my fingers

my name
a whisper
sweet and warm
just to hear
its  melody
you told
and fill the air
of you

your name
a whisper
sad and painful
just to hear
its melody
a memory
to fill the void
you left

I just filled out a paper two weeks ago,
One question was,
"Are you depressed,"
If yes , are you suicidal,"
I wrote yes to both,
Yesterday I got a letter back,
They said that they were not able to cover me,
Their reason,
I was a liability to commit suicide,
So I never got what I wanted.

I don't ride a bike,
I don't drive,
It's better for me and everyone else around me,
At least that's what people tell me,
I believe them,
"You can't adapt quickly enough to situations,"
I wear glasses because I crash into stuff without them,
I break everything that I own by accident,
I really don't mean to,
I don't drive,
I won't ever drive.