A SHOT AWAY

A SHOT AWAY

shot in the arm
shot in the back

Merry Clayton
backing your jumping
jack vocals

the whole planet
about to boil

rise up, straming, foaming,
bubbling over

but
   if we go
(fast fast
   not slow)

at least we can tell ourselves
with songs like these

we were
    more than microbes,
were
    way more

than
just froth

BREATHLESS WITHOUT BREATH

BREATHLESS
WITHOUT BREATH

got no Elon
Musk starship

no Colorado Mountain
bunker with
all the mod cons

so let
the bombs fall
missiles zero in

let my self split into
muliples like
every heavy
metal atom
under the Sun

who cares
if the system burns
the towers collapse

not me
    nothing got to lose
as indifferent as
the darkness
    of the Universe, to
how
  the dice fall, what
comes about

the life of all those digital
billions of
pure
    civilization

gets flashed, windstormed
burnt to ash

BLUEBIRD

BLUEBIRD

there’s a Bukowski in my heart
that wants to get out

and in the heart of that Bukowski
a bluebird that needs
to learn
to fly

but first
crack its shell, hatch,
escape, aspire
for the sky and
outer
space beyond

but as
for that Bukowski
I have no
whiskey for
him
no cigarettes
to dole out

and, to add
to my ignominy, no
checkout girls to
flirt with
grocery clerks to give me
at most a secomd glance
(best
I can do, best
I can get
is mountain of
rejection slips, is
debt collectors swarming,
crawling
all over my ass

yet
he survives, he obdures
this Bukpwski with
his bluebird

I just
cannot express