And cups,
a black ashtray sit
together with my button
and do not move.
Upon a Table
Reply
I’m In Heaven
The sun beats down
On the North Beach sand
Linda and Mary
In their summer tan
Sipping lemonade
As my skin gets fried
(1, 2, 3, 4)
I must have died
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
Crowded into Kroll’s
For the Sunday game
Bears at Packers
I can feel the flame
Suzie and Karen
Shouting football pride
(1, 2, 3, 4)
I must have died
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
At Chief O’Neill’s
In the afternoon
Drinking pints with a woman
That I met in June
I can’t remember her name
But you know I’ve tried
It doesn’t matter . . .
I must have died
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m on the Near West Side
Underneath the moon
Sitting on a couch
In The Tasting Room
I’ve got Connie and Becky
On either side
(1, 2, 3, 4)
I must have died
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
I’m in heaven (do da do-da do)
laundry
i sit
and watch
my clothes turning
and the lady,
her girl,
they sit
and watch
me
it has been two years
since that
old blue shirt
has come out
un-wrinkled
and my jeans
are
losing themselves . . . too old
when i am done
when
my shirts are hung
when
my socks are matched
and
my undershorts
are safely tucked
into my laundry bag
i wink at the girl
and leave.
karl’s party
the storm
with freezing rain
and flooding roads
battered trees
and engines froze
blacked out power
stopped the flow
of traffic to the city
even karl’s party
now has been postponed
i don’t even wanna know
i don’t even wanna know
what you are gonna say ta me
you can forget about me now
please believe me
taken half a year ta find out
why a whisper grows in the dark
if i could see it i’d still
never know
why you wanted ta break my heart
in two – ya did an’ i ain’t sorry
though i really
wanted you
but i was caught between a fantasy
an’ the real world
i don’t even wanna know
why you are tryin’ to belong
you’re just a mystery
but you kept goin’
on an’ on . . .
well, you can put me in yer scrapbook
like so many words gone down
like the sound of
fallin’ snow
i ain’t around no more
ta tell yer troubles to
an’ i won’t listen
if i could but I will always
in my dreams remember you
the fog in my valley
the fog ain’t liftin’ here – it
sorta rolls around an’
tries to climb the valley walls
but never does – it
stands and fights the sun
but always loses – yet
it never seems quite beaten
never really gone
whatever . . .
collect my duds
and take them all
to willie’s
i can pick them up
when i go through
that part of town
tomorrow afternoon
i won’t be back
until I’m over
till the sirens
can’t seduce me
when i look at you
and i refuse to answer
like you always do
or when i reach
that moment maybe
never turn around
or not remember
without grinning
what we did
so long together
one for wondering how much time
if i was sound asleep
when
you called me
i’d miss the chance
to say i’m
sleeping
hard pressed moments
stolen
from a cuckoo bird
is what we share
yet we are growing
up together
whether
we’re apart or not
i’ve never wondered
why we keep it rolling
seems like boot lace lovers we
will zig and
zag our way around to
eyelet twenty-three
then
get so tangled
tied in knots
absurdly happy for a while
you and me
the disconcertion
i cannot look
to long faced lines
of woe or wit
or solemn etudes
humming moods of
woo or call your name
as the rock
mouthed pessimist
i stand to draw
to me the gloom
of life and speak
so cynically of
happiness and youth
i slash at what
to me is thickwit
feeble lives
portrayed in work
and calling out
for help
that is not wanted
bottled up inside
without the benefit
of seeing what
i look for
shines frustration
like alone
without a book
i seem to miss you
Industriousness Betrayed
of thinking why
to work or not –
to be the driving force
or not the source of energy
inertial stage remains intact
until upon it acts
an outside force
an independent source – it
will move
then and only then
and never gains momentum
so grand he said
the bus disquiets him
awfully
or she got on
past the museums
almost to
georgetown
formerly of the
latter
scholastic deviation
he said so grand
on three-zero (to
friendship heights)
she sat and
bounced
her way to r
he bought some
cigarettes at
safeway
they walked alone
on
separate sidewalks
so distinct from
traffic so
unassuming
Lausanne
within the streets that
rise so high or
steep decent is
where we stopped
for ‘sho-co-lat’
a french cafe
inside a maze of tables
sat the two of us
and warmed us both
as Swiss October
drizzled and
we smiled and smoked
our cigarette
to knowing I
would soon be gone yet
hoping I could stay
american ingenuity runs rampant
when i was just getting over
the artificial world of
america – even making love seems artificial these days –
when i was just getting over
this plastic world in which i
work and play i saw an
electric wire coming out of the ground
and up a tree it went down and
it went into the ground on the
other side it came out of the
ground at the next tree and
i thought . . .
christ,
electric trees
i could live again
remember how
we used ta laugh the day away
in the comfort of a warm dive
had no cares ta worry ‘bout
no bills ta pay
we could laugh all day now
didn’t we smile a lot at bein’
up all night
we could slide on down by mornin’
yea we could
wouldn’t we smile a lot at bein’
naked on the floor
till the sun came up an’
oh, how i loved you
madly
how we did it all the time
oh, could i live again
on a saturday
as i roll around to meet
it with my head beneath my pillow
i am trying to forget it
always comes around again
stumbling through the clothes and blankets
scattered on the floor
i reach the kitchen
i look into the outside through the window
see the blanket that has
turned into a mountain on my lawn
i put the kettle on the stove
take out a cigarette but everybody’s gone
saturday in a.m. time
soon turns to afternoon
and i’m not ready for another
run through brew ha ha and everything
that makes the day so great
i will just relax today is what
i always say
i never do
and it’s that second cup of coffee
that puts me on my feet to start anew
and i am fascinated by the way
the dishes pile up
so fast i don’t remember eating
that much food
it was only yesterday i finally got my clothes
back to the washer for a brand new
lease on them and now the dishes need it too
and the mirror is no fantasy on saturday
reality is what is there
it looks me in the eye i am in shock
and all i do is stand and stare
if it wasn’t for the night
before the morning
wouldn’t be so bad and i
could simply rise and shine as if
it was the middle of the week
no i never learn a lesson if
i get knocked down
on a friday i’ll be back
on a saturday to turn the other cheek