jimmy

gentle jimmy
died tonight
8:04 pm is nearly dark
not black in mourning
soft with gray, rich in shades
but i'll go walking
heel to toe
careful where the streets
bend unlit
i'll jump across the alleyways
hiding jimmy's dreams
all full up with fear
i may be but
trust is trust, all wrapped
in care, i think i do
love smoky liquor
brown or gold, caught
by moonlight
then we'll speak bout gentle jimmy
or dance the digger's two-step
on the 19th avenue

dying's got a speak
all of its own
though it comes and goes
now forgot, now remembered
they say all life's got ebbs
got tides and turnings
or is it just my sweet
hot whiskey
that sleeps in this old bed
sweet faithful lover

gentle jimmy
died tonight
done in from chasing angels
if i can merit, can understand
the streetly choir
weren't he but a child, or
am i wandered
am i seeing past the glass
and through the mirror
8:04 pm is not nearly
dark enough
for dying

the hot house flower

leg crossed over knee, with fine display of
tan socks, loose and overwashed socks, j c penney
season 1974, no doubt recovered, no doubt
discarded, or are they beige
?

he may be seeking treasures, in his bold
blue pant, belted closely, firmly held, may be
on the chase, pale arms sheltered in a triumph
of the clorox corporation

as he sits, long fingers tap tap tapping
some times paused, in a delicate rhythm
profane with jazz hip spasm, uncrosses to an act
with startled calf, and smiles

and you whisper, bent incautious, breathless toward
my ear, that you desire him, watch and devour
him, he carries baubles, ragged pages, hair flown
furious, this instant man

but i can't see him, though i strain, though i
could reach across and touch his shadow, hear
some sibilance from his lips, and know they
have a fullness made to blush

and you whisper, mouth unforming, watch
his slowly nodding chin, that you desire him
would caress him, he of the j c penney
season 1974

i'm indecisive, there is a haughty and entirely
demanding, conundrum, where does line go sharp
between the tan and the weighty beige, where
does my fashion sense begin
?

but faced with such fine drama, can i turn away
miss even a mini-episode from your unexpected
gift? here as we sit, and sip our marvels, soy unfatted
doubled, preciously caffeinated

yes, his legs are crossed, eyes star-tossed
or so you say, bent incautious, crassly salivating
and if he wears boxers, paisley manufactures
from the house of sears
?

will you still want him, hot house flower
he may be
?

lost

i'm gone lost
mercy
and i'm gone out of dreams
ain't i
?

yes, i say i been travelin
far off places, cause
you love your bits
of sweet romance

lovin butterflies, darker
flowers, glowin in the shade
so i kiss you full of mysteries
don't i
?

breathless, you sit and listen
and for you i'll shape some words
round, fullsome, and cut away
the bitter

but i'm gone out of dreams
been flowed over, lyin in the sun
near drowned, neath the weight
of butterflies

and taste my tears

i am

i am the healing man
oh lordy, full of comfort
i am

and you have fallen
out of grace, and lie there
hungry, but

were you ever just an angel
and i am never blinded
in the dark

i am the comfort man
oh lordy, full of healing
i am

sitting in your window
drinking full of scent
hardly

do you think to weave
and bind me, sorcel me
with magicks

i am the dancing man
oh lordy, jealous in the hours
i am

so call out, call out
if you have some voice, some
power

for your healing man
oh lordy, leave me with my dreaming
i am