Personal Identification
she wouldn’t be a’thinkin about me if i were here at this moment
and loved her half of an oysterflash goèt
which i am not at ease et see
so her thoughts sprain around like mongo pancake ecstacy
(thru glass and occident and a bit of kneed)
and marginal jazz blots that are chlorine greed
‘i always make haircreme bagels of things’
she says to herself as a chore
and staring at her bedly springs
i am (to her) a tarfish pore
from withought to withighn
in a dobblecry din
splattered whims thru the floor-splattered windowshed
with dew and cud
and drowned in sud
in a tin-can sea-food bed-red dread-thread
or occasionally, just an accident (attractive ent.)
[NOW DOMESTIC] she mars the wood with guitars and stars
so it is not good. PUT YOUR DAMN SHOES ON
they say or rather neigh
horsey galoppe cantaloupe dope thru said shed sea
and break his say a little way
he was a wouldn’t too should she be
but she wouldn’t be am if the words got clogged
in an awkward dam
t h a t ’ s w h y s h e a r e i ’ l l a l w a y s ME