Thursday, June 29, 2017

So we road the
magic carpet to our
riches

Flew past whatever
we saw

I used to be an eagle
but a hawk is
easier

(crows are best.
like my friend with a broken
wing.

I feed him cashew nuts and
currants)

Sunday, June 25, 2017

Every event offers
an opportunity to surpass
your demons

I used to want to just
go somewhere and be
cool and now

I'm already
home

Friday, June 23, 2017

Only because it's
the City I've been
building in my soul

Motorcycles are
one's love, passion
and Freedom

She was a butterfly
or a vampire or nothing
but a figure of my imagination

just like now

Thursday, June 15, 2017

I have decided
that Walt Whitman
is my grandfather
great-grandfather
great-great-grandfather

Whatever fits into the
chronological scheme of
things

For our souls are the same
and he is the American-Poet
of my soul-family

What a great grandfather of
my poet-soul he is,
for he has already adressed all
my concerns

Taken measures to ensure my
freedom and my love,
and my care
in his works

He rises with his pen
and masters all hearts from
the beautiful beyond

Reaches into my hand and
guides these lines

Thank you sweet great father
Surrender these techno
lives
Ride dinosaur fumes
of combustion paradise

Outlaw since 1903
Runnin thru
AZ

Close to the border
hotter n' hell
Fligh higher than Icarus
(it's OK I'm
a phoenix)

Monday, June 12, 2017

She ran mountain
lion into darkness
only to emerge

envolped in light
she dreamed

Saturday, June 10, 2017

Discussing Proust
outside shops in the
east village that
no longer exist

Except in places that
cannot be touched
(remember the time you
flew in from Siberia
and got me kicked out
of my apartment in
NYC

We altered the course of
our planetary trajectories
that night, you me and
the East river)
So we tried to
solve life's mysteries
deciphering graffiti
on subways

unlocking
superhuman
hungers


Friday, June 9, 2017

The awakening must happen
(all the machines are beautiful)
she is a divine animal
wrapping herself into infinity

Thursday, June 8, 2017

Thank you Montana
for your mountain
aloneness

(I'm sorry to whom-
ever/that I went inside
and you can't find
'me')

Whatever image you lost
of us
was something you never
knew how to
hold onto

Monday, June 5, 2017

She was a cool rider
after the phsychic storm

All I ever wanted was
to ride

I'm gonna ride on as
long as I can

Gonna run on til'
they turn off the band

I could tell what her heart
meant by the way she wrapped
around me

I could feel the warmth of her soul
reaching for my love