( with graditude, to my readers)

exercise caution

of the

night

leads to the day,

often dangerous,

a romantic paradigm

or this or 

myth:

growling wildcats,

                       I

am American,

where submarine

screen doors slam,

I'd arrive

unshaven

(like Hemingway

on a four

day fishing trip)

and wonder where

the dancing girls hid

the peach brandy

              # 

for a small fee

                        I'd

find thick-soled steel

tip shoes heaped at

mal(seizure!)mart,

delivered by

the dyslexic white guy,

off ships bigger

than

the Empire State Building,

from the

land of

child slaves,

dancing a

thousand

times,

solitary

again trapped

inside

that aisle

where the toothpaste

of the month,

dreams

sunnysummer days,

at eye level,

where the wonderful

she-teat,

intelligentsia,

squats,

wishing,

hoping,

rebelling, tawdry,

even out of

baby aspirin,

no can goods, no candy,

no candida,

no Candid Camera

only

a very finely printed,

rather small, really smaller:

than a pack of Lucky Strikes,

gold leafed edition

of St. Thomas Aquinas’ s,

My Way of Life

crisp near

an Epcot 

futuristic

washer and dryer

more expensive than

my first car, last car,

my undergraduate degree,

if it weren’t

the dead of night

I’d call you up and

we’d aggressively

set the world

left of center,

screw it,

it’s five after 12

or nothing

in the profound

interests

of full disclosure,

I AM long the S & P

I AM the Statue of Liberty

Also: ultramarine, magenta,

that yellow golden bear,

rosy rover posy clef-chinned-Dover

the heart is everyman,

the loneliest hunter,

that happy carnival

where the kids

in wheelchairs

dance first

if: I were

an ice breaker I would

find your frozen tears

if: I were a poet,

one dollar

for all those years

to the Salvation Army

if I were not

indisposed

I'd spin a tome

how weave

been hosed

I'd dive for urchin,

WI-FI, and Fee, FO,

defy

cramped, pressed,

I would lie

tell you how to fly

yes IAM

Sam,

all jazz music,

the heaviest

of sentimentalists,

the Sumday,

before five Mondays,

all things

to all animals

whom) nights

or forms or geese,

i’d flip or skip the ship

they call Pale Fire

ampersand  know

that you think

that I did not see you

that was me outside the

Beverly Brothers Revival

disorientated, disenfranchised,

non-hip,

in Blues Brothers-like

sunglasses

I needed to ask if you were God

did I thank you for the notch?

(rhymes with medicine)

that smile from

your flaming

arrow

blue eyes?

how I confessed

 that IAM

dirty minded

but I wash

my hands

ampersand

bless my soul

every chance I get

especially

out-of-doors

and run off

upon my

happy day

while you’re

 away