starving there, sitting around the
and at night walking the streets f
hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, maybe it was,

Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the
Orthadox to the
west.
she is dark

as the poems go into the thousands
realize that you’ve created very
little.
it comes down to the rain, the sun
the traffic, the nights and the da

stuck in the rain on the freeway,
these are the lucky ones, these ar
dutifully employed, most with thei
as possible as they try not to thi
this is our new civilization: as m

I had just won $115 from the heads
was naked upon my bed
listening to an opera by one of th
and had just gotten rid of a very
when there was a knock upon the wo

here they come
these guys
grey truck
radio playing
they are in a hurry

they talk down through
the centuries to us,
and this we need more and more,
the statues and paintings
in midnight age

some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind
for 3 or 4 days.
they’ll find me there.
it’s Cherub, they’ll say, and

she reads to me from the New York
which I don’t buy, don’t know
how they get in here, but it’s
something about the Mafia
one of the heads of the Mafia

call it the greenhouse effect or w
but it just doesn’t rain like it u
I particularly remember the rains
depression era.
there wasn’t any money but there w