I got in the shower
and burned my balls
last Wednesday.
met this painter called Spain,
no, he was a cartoonist,

“you know,” she said, “you were at
the bar so you didn’t see
but I danced with this guy.
we danced and we danced
close.

They don’t make it
the beautiful die in flame—
suicide pills, rat poison, rope wh
ever...
they rip their arms off,

he lives in a house with a swimmin
and says the job is
killing him.
he is 27. I am 44. I can’t seem t
get rid of

I’ve come by, she says, to tell yo
that this is it. I’m not kidding,
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her ar
her long red hair before my bedroo

I read that he lost a suitcase ful
train and that they never were rec
I can’t match the agony of this
but the other night I wrote a 3—pa
upon this computer

the mockingbird had been following
all summer
mocking mocking mocking
teasing and cocksure;
the cat crawled under rockers on p

They are building a house
half a block down
and I sit up here
with the shades down
listening to the sounds,

I was fairly drunk when it
began and I took out my bottle and
along the way. I was reading a wee
Kandel and I did not look quite a
pretty but

at the track today,
Father’s Day,
each paid admission was
entitled to a wallet
and each contained a