Did some research and found a site
of the 10 Top Bizarre Literary Deaths
Sergei Esenin cut his wrists and wrote
a poem in the blood called Goodbye Friend
life is indeed a spiritual pickle
Edgar Allen found at 40 dead of alcoholism
called it Acute Congestion of the brain
Nevermore
At 32 into the ocean of despair
Good-bye Everbody after just a few
Feeling pretty clear that drink
inspires
how long
can I remain
a sad autumn
ever since my grief
has shed my leaves
Rumi
When he laid eyes on the wandering dervish
he fell in love with a presence and from that
day abandoned acadamia for mystical poetry
No one called him a Homo or doubted his heart
this relationship was not meant to consummate
Song of Salomon describes a searching for the
beloved that can only be a quest for communion
perhaps a coming home to oneself
a moon of liberation.
suck me in with “the mindfulness”
safe and stimulated by connection
then of course the tele masturbation
A drunk a misogynist why didn’t I guess
There is always the next unholy mess
Get this poem he put on his site
I’m a piece of work I’m an an angel’s fiend
Bathed in Lavender and Gasoline
Scared brave, shallow in ink black well
Lightly browned in the fires of hell
Wicked, holy , full on fake
Best known for my big mistake
I’m Zen wise, peaceful, gone beserk
Comeon this one must be a jerk
I’ld rather read all day and sing
mind fucked enough and maudlin.
Personality dimensions must be two floors down from horoscopes
intuitive and gives into temptations, euphamism for highly addicted
You may still experience many short-lived pleasures and never be
thought of as boring, help me please to manage my stress level
given a sequence of steps you are inconsistent and fail to accomplish
critisized periodically for being unreliable
and unable to stay between the lines.
Santa Fe Jack met my train in his sports car and linen suit
initiated me into a world I had dreaded and took advantage of
having had such fun he wanted others and hounded me
I told him no that cold hearts were always available locally
Madrid Dave raising Russian beauty psychos’ children had
a palatial home and his photography on sculptures intense
yet a four poster bed and hanging swing aren’t in my sites
friendship with minimal benefits are also readily procured
The teacher I wanted to attend gathered mushrooms and
cooked them we watched Harvard and listened to Mayer
The teacher that taught me denial is always my easiest option
will always provide the homework that leeches would make pleasant
never finished with vocabulary of darkness inconsistencies and moonshine.
Did some research and found a site
of the 10 Top Bizarre Literary Deaths
Sergei Esenin cut his wrists and wrote
a poem in the blood called Goodbye Friend
life is indeed a spiritual pickle
Edgar Allen found at 40 dead of alcoholism
called it Acute Congestion of the brain
Nevermore
At 32 into the ocean of despair
Good-bye Everbody after just a few
Feeling pretty clear that drink
inspires
Elton sang it one day and I attached the meaning
unknown mysterious a flash in the pan
a gunshot wound to the temple meant to end all
the trail of the explosion the miracle of surviving
I never stop looking heavenward for the next
I had to press my hand on my chest
to catch my breath from the anxiety
thinking about where it comes from
doesn’t stop the tensing up of muscles
Afflicted feels so lame
the actors sip on sherry and I want one
my only medicine, wait he can help
stop scanning for the relief out there
overstimulated then slowing down
repeating the future takes me from here
look at them they are my now
a connection and a laugh a return
How does 3 months feel?
Not so bad rocking with the
relief of it all
Me I’m breaking out in boils
which happens at every fourth
like a do it yourself exorcism
Got high on tumeric yesterday
anything botanical will do
holding on for a snort of
some NPY, first in line
My hippocampus emailed my
anterior cingulate cortex
said healing may kill you
I replied dead for too long already
Hip said say Hi to Lou
Blog Smog
Flocks of locust pods blanket the doorway
harpist fingering strands of golden hair
diner saying he lives here over all places
orchids blooms atop a neck in the doorway
a woman unrecognized and one greeted
reciting their work in companion
they had my heart in their throats
biochicklet 
