And if you be a bird

it’s not the men with heavy gunsnor right wing fruits or crazy Huns,it’s what the gods have given you(yes, this is science and quite true) ,your skin is dark and can’t createa true and quintessential stateof pure cholecalciferol,it’s what you’d call a protocolto send into the body proper,those nutrients like zinc and copper,but here we…

send him wishes, sometimes darts,he may upset applecartsup to snuff in his cognitionquick to beat the competitionkeeping though a civil tongueonce he sees the bastards hung.Friends like Jerry come in stagesask a poet as he ageswhether he’d accept a freak,he will help the frail, the meekbut he has no time for losers,druggies, poofters, thieves and…

bright daylight and an audience I would to you commenddare you, a poet of renown sit down and look at meat what I write to ascertain that valid thoughts emergeand stay a little while to talk and brush against my handyour tactile need erase my pain, replace it with new urge,and walk the walk throughout…

It’s never welcome like a flowerand flares right up after a showerso many cures have been inventedand doctors often are resentedwhen all they give is cortisonewhich thins the skin through to the bone.The cause is lack of stomach acidso common in the not so placidand worrying midlife civiliansthe rose affects so many millionsbut very few…

Was there a single cowardor were they all like me?La Liberté, they sang,as bullets from those Mausersbrought their own deadly welcome.What if they gave a wara question full of logic,and not a single soulwould show his frightened face.

Wir Alten werden ueberholtman schickt uns noch zur Kur.Die Zeit verfliegt, man merkt es kaumdas Jungvolk waechst heran,man reist zur Kindheit, nur im Traum,wacht auf als alter Mann.Sie beissen sich die Zaehne aus(wir haben kaum noch welche) ,und spaeter dann, beim Leichenschmausda leer’n sie uns’re Kelche.Wir sterben gern, so sagt man uns,weg mit dem alten…