you are a God

and tonight
you are a God
or a Roman Catholic priest
with a small dog on your lap

instead of an innocent child waiting for a father-figure.
you dream of riding a white horse in
the woodlands of upstate New York,
having fled the midtown scene
because you were down on your cultural luck.
you are NOT a naked Allen Ginsberg
descending an ornate stairway with Peter
to greet an irate Gordon Liddy,
who would soon leave empty-handed,
laughing all the way to the bank.
in the morning, you are noticed:
wearing a new psychedelic beret
with slender, sparkling strings of golden beads
dangling from your neck,

smiling like a Cherokee with wise eyes and an insomniac heart,

resembling the most dangerous man in America
surfing chaos
marveling at grains of sand on a fantastic beach,

running for governor of California,
singing autographs for the unclothed members of a lost Berkeley tribe
and praying with your alter ego friend, Jim,
who said his real name is Timothy Leary.
he would soon donate his brain to medical science,
which he did.

you moved quietly to the Taos Pueblo,

married Juanita, a native Indian woman

and tonight

you are a God.

i can't walk no more

i lost both legs in a war
now i can't walk no more
and i want to know what for
all the sweating and the blood
the rain forest jungle and the mud
earthquakes and the rising flood
how could i ever know
which way the wind would blow
before the new day began
first i walked and then i ran
through crowds of people pointing everywhere
some of them cheating (and) some playing fair
hard strangers in uniform marching down my street
they're searching but still can't find my feet
no welcoming hand for me to greet
only an eerie noise erupting from fancy toys
and lonely women with their blue-collar boys
and a loud call from the dark city tower
i hear it most every passing hour
a silent lovely flower
hoping for a drink
it almost has no more time left to think
i lost both legs in a war
now i can't walk no more
and i want to know what for
all the sweating and the blood
the rain forest jungle and the mud
earthquakes and the rising flood
how could i ever know
which way the wind would blow
before the new day began
first i walked and then i ran.

a final caress

and a young girl removed her wedding dress
she folded the memory
gave it a final caress
the lamp light growing dim
she wasn't thinking of him
inside the room and by the four poster bed
she read a book instead
tossed her head and gave a laugh
smiling as she slowly slipped
into a warm bath
and the soap bubbles blew
like noses with a head cold
what would she do
when the water turned cold
well, her skin softened
her story got told
and she slept like a beauty
she felt it was her duty
to have her own life
it didn't matter much if she was a wife
she had a direction on her own road
so i was later told
down on one strong knee
she buried the anticipation key.