riding your bike down wilson st
you told me an old chinese curse:
may you get exactly what you want.
speaking of which:
it would be a bigger
man than you
to read history
to get yourself into
-something bigger than yourself-
maybe it would be a woman,
a barefoot bruce springsteen girl
sitting in the rain on the hood of a car
maybe it would be me,
singing patti smith to myself
at a traffic light.
i can’t remember
where i read these words:
‘now we know what we are
fighting for;
just what we had
before we went to war.’
but,
speaking of which:
your world
is not a world worth fighting for.
Too bad you got spammed.
Nice poetry. Thanks for putting it out there.
dear a girl out there,
i like this line i found in your blog:
“Christ’s suffering was for our used condoms and rank baggage.”
out of context it sounds like a bukowski poem.
in context it is less ironic and more eeire.
dear jes,
i just loved reading it out loud