i could never stay away

i used to know a lonely girl
who lived on the floor below
she often liked to tease me
about what i didn't know
and because she had an appetite
she asked to take the biggest bite
well, it was an exciting night
and the very next day
i could never stay away
yes, the rains might come
and i would always try to get me some
and then the morning sun
well, it was always excellent fun
under white sheets and near the bar
she never let me get very far
she was on the phone demanding
she had me bending at the knees
before i would get erect
i asked her pretty please
and she told me i had a handsome face
red lipstick and the finest lace
all wrapped loose around her waist
and because she had an appetite
she asked to take the biggest bite
well, it was an exciting night
and the very next day
i could never stay away
yes, the rains might come
and i always would try to get me some
and then the morning sun
well, it was always excellent fun
under white sheets and near the bar
she never let me get very far

i could kill the Atlantic

guerrillas in the trees
presumably on their knees
wondering what more to do
painting the town red, white, and blue
and hide-and-seek,
gambling for the weak.
was it really for a year?
i see no one coming near
the staccato of a shout
kept me looking round about
and i intended to see
someone else looking out for me
but she might have been shy
i never understood why
in Monte Carlo
i wanted to play bingo
and ended up broke
so that's what i wrote
at the end of the final game
there was no one to blame
a scenario
said the impresario
before he fled the casino
leaving me high and dry
i never understood why
i could have killed the choreography
but that's not really me
i know i could kill the Atlantic
but that's not really romantic
so i hummed
and strummed
and drew
because what i knew
when afflicted with a bout of angina
was how to reassemble a vagina
and the girl is down the hall
it's past time for me to call
when she hears me this early in the season
i won't need a reason
she won't ask for any whys
when i come visiting between her thighs.

drinking on the Vine

drinking on the Vine
waiting for a friend of mine
i'm not in a particular hurry
the lights are low
she'll be here when she's ready
i'll ask her later where she wants to go.
sitting on a stool
i'm not acting like a fool
watching ladies dancing on bar
i see them smile
she'll be here when she's ready
i'll just keep waiting for a little while.
wondering all night
is everything all right?
the crowd spinning bottles on the floor
the girls acting nice
she'll be here when she's ready
but pretty soon i'll be as cold as ice.
drinking on the Vine
waiting for a friend of mine
i'm not in a particular hurry
the lights are low
she'll be here when she's ready
i'll ask her later where she wants to go.

maybe renaissance

maybe renaissance
maybe a dance
but on the first night
i woke up
i was in a moonstruck trance
sitting on the wall of an older house
i saw the shadow of a running mouse
he kept looking at me
i wondered what he hoped to see
i wasn't angry or uptight
but i wasn't filled with delight
it was still my first night
i had many long hairs
several romances and lasting cares
i slept in the room upstairs
where i took many rests
i phoned imaginary loves and greeted guests
i couldn't toss a pillow
but i found a modern fight
maybe renaissance
maybe a dance
but on the first night
very drunk
i grabbed my hand and packed my trunk
stood on my head
it's what the instruction book once said
what more could i have done?
went looking for a party to have some fun
to uncork a bottle and to come undone
i came up with some kind of costume
skipped a beat or two and sang an artistic tune
overheard
a discouraging word
but i kept it out of my mind
see, i'm not an anarchist
i went looking simply to be kissed
put on my best suit and seductive tie
saw a woman looking me in the eye
i thought i'd wait for awhile
i saw her smile
maybe this would become the start of something new
what more could i do?
i heard her whisper and say "It's you!"
maybe renaissance
maybe a dance
but on the first night
i woke up
i was in a moonstruck trace
she gave me money but i wanted to dance
she offered me respect
but i wanted love
i could hear the running mouse
he was in the great room above
and there were a great many more
underneath the bedroom floor
i went looking for the open door
when i felt the wind blowing on my face
felt no disgrace
put a foot in the street and another one in my mouth
headed south
maybe this would become the start of something new
what more could i do?
i heard her whisper and say "It's you!"

pay attention to grief

when my words seemed indifferent
hit my chin and the floor
i couldn't find a reason
to stay around anymore:
it wasn't impossible to see!
she tossed tears in the air
they splashed on the new carpet
made a mess of my hair.
i might have stayed focused
offered hugs and a drink
but acting so dumb
i forgot how to think.
in the warm shallow waters
of absorption with Self
i settled like dust
on a library shelf.
unwilling to reach out
or unable to feel
but regardless of cause
i became the true heel.
now everyone listen:
pay attention to grief
if feeling inadequate
turn a new leaf.
comfort the wounded
tend to their pain
your offer to listen
gives them much more to gain.

looking for a star

she would never call my name
when i was standing on the street corner
looking for a taste of sweet shame
and i finally found a tasty bite
it was the middle of a lonely night
i heard a dog howl
there was a chill to the air
i went looking for an envelope but found an affair
what would i do now?
the next time i looked at the ticking clock
i found myself on a different neighborhood block
and the woman stayed in the passenger lane
i thought they said sunny but all i felt was rain
there was a lot of traffic roaring and making noise
i looked in their windows filled with strangely funny toys
i used to play with making up and making out
a woman smiled and said she liked to shout
we'd soon be in the back seat holding hands
listening closely all we'd hear were the electric bands
don't get too excited i liked to say
we'll soon be traveling to another town
maybe i'll be able to put some longer roots down
and maybe we'll find another place to stay
i've been thinking about those days now long gone
they're so far out of reach and out of touch
i don't want to say too much
after a bad first part i'd like to repair my open heart
but i'm not a doctor i'm a happy priest
or a follower of things divine at least
i'd like to think so
standing on the road-side curb i have to ask again
is this the right way to go?
what more is there for me to know?
maybe i'll try the famous Texas Two-Step in Amarillo
but what if i'm too small?
because that cowboy dance expects everyone to be tall
i used to know how to do the twist and the jitterbug
now all those steps are being swept underneath the memory rug
only an old man can say he's gone fishing
when what he really means is he's gone to the well wishing
looking for a star
when a woman came walking up and said "I know who you are!"
last time I saw myself
i was driving away with her in my antique car
and we stayed in the passing lane
i thought they said sunny but all i felt was rain
and if i could
i'd do it all over again without the convertible top
giving no thought to slowing or coming to an early stop
bouncing over rough washboard roads
into a soft resort town
maybe we'll be able to put some longer roots down.

on the new train

on the new train
i took the evening ride
there was a hot and hungry woman
and i sat by her side
she was playing with her face
sipping a chilled white wine
and out the nearest window
everything was looking fine
i asked for her name
i was feeling pretty cool
she gave me a curious glance
and she called me a fool
so i took my book and laid it down
i gave her a frown
but i was determined
not to make an unkind sound
all the passengers close by
fingered their evening meals
i asked her for the reason
but heard only the passing of steel wheels
the conductor studied my ticket
said my stop was coming soon
i kept looking out the window
and kept seeing the full moon
it's a place i wish to visit
i'd be the man in the night sky
there'd be no reason to worry
there'd be no reason to cry
the train kept moving forward
so i picked up my book
there was a hot and hungry woman
but i didn't dare look
i knew an end was fast approaching
my heart in pain
i thought i should say something but
there was nothing more to gain
another stop and whistle blow
straight lines are easy to follow
another station and soon another page
i got up and walked off the stage
carried my luggage and carried my book
there was a hot and hungry woman
but i didn't dare look
i wasn't looking for a romance
i didn't want to be a tramp
and when the darkness tried to swallow me
i pulled out my lamp
there was a cheap room at the motel
a rented key for the door
there was a hot and hungry woman
but i didn't need her no more.

the longest nipple

the girl with the longest nipple!
i asked her what it was all about
but she ran out of the house
i can remember her departing shout.
that nipple was longer than my neck
and skinny like an old farmer's mule
i tried each night to measure it
but never found the proper tool
you know, it was an anomaly
as different as night is from day
a friend once asked how it compared
and i couldn't find the exact word to say
a nipple like a spaghetti noodle
but cold and totally indifferent
it never showed the slightest shiver
regardless of how much time i spent
and before she ran tripping into the street
her nipple in her hand
i sucked it down my open throat
in an effort to more fully understand.

I have a dream

i'm sitting on the floor
a raven repeating "Nevermore!"
there's a mounted white knight
a black man is swinging high
all through the night
i can see them from my porch
the light is from a torch
i'm in my more formal wear
something somewhere
it's got to matter
but my head is growing fatter
i'm hearing commanding shouts
emptied of all doubts
i see a bloody stream
there is no sign of a dream!
what does it mean?
i'm sitting on your face
urging myself to pick up the pace
but this is not a race
i'm walking down the hall
someone's trying to recall
a cotton-picking thing
i hear a soulful parent sing
there are sweat-stains on their pants
i can see them when they dance
there's a damn hot summer sun
someone's got a gun
i'm sitting on the floor
a raven repeating "Nevermore!"
there's a mounted white knight
a black man swinging high
all through the night
i'm in my more formal wear
something somewhere
it's got to matter
but my head is growing fatter.

to Cubism & beyond

and he had a secret life:
it was both a cut above
and a cut below
the powerful knife
like a bull who carved women
who would jump in fascination
or walk
or swim
or pose for a portrait
because the bull would draw
more than a short hard gun
if he could get it!
with his bold eyes consumed with gaze
he went looking for The Four Cats
but only had a single drink
when after many days
blue became a brush stroke for cold
and death and they'd drip from the edge
of newly stretched canvas
trimmed in leaf of gold
and he enjoyed seductive summer nights
with two or three French layers
mostly fantasy behind a mask
of curious insight
into the darkness of Spanish art
wherein a black African dance form
emerged like abstract Barcelona.
and he had an insatiable heart
which kept beating past the death
of many loved ones
including a first wife
who blew her last breath
after the Second World War
and famously was heard from no more!
and he had a lovely smile and hunger
for an athletic girl
who became yet another muse
though much younger
and he eventually had a bell which bled
and he smoked like exploding bombs
do on a war-ravaged street
where a child might be found dead!
and he would remember the valiant peasant fight:
a mother screaming in agony;
he heard her anguished words
long before losing his own brilliant sight
in 1973
when he died in Mougins, France
saying "Drink to me!"