i am most inspired by the
only ones
the day-to-day and nothing

lonely ones
on the trains their waytowork
and one more time
fallen somewhere back behind
quiet still and deep between
the cracks
no one noticed
the artists too
they call me quick to dream and doubt and
long and pain
in far beyond and deep
they sing and screech and claw and make their brushes clash and burn
against the moment
they muck around the sacred darkness of their own
over and over and over and again once more and always
new beyond what tells us has it been
they call me out
they stab me swift and clean and holy shit
they make me
wild and raging pure
and who inspire me not
at all
not one bit small
who revile and disgust me
the politicians

when all the inordertos are gone
and all the whys and fors
have gone the way of
the last because
the allthatsleft
will be
to be

the way they walk
the how they hold their cigarettes
the way their belts hang low
and just below that patch of skin
that peeks below their tight worn t’s
for one
just one
to glance my way and fix his gaze
to tell me
it’s you
i want

numb with want
and traipsing through
to find what i can’t have
i listen to the mother’s day
the somewhere far away the day
that mothers close would spend

trains with flowers
bags with bows and almostthere
places warm with home
that i can only watch
and wonder

and when we have finished our lovemaking

our mad, passionate lovemaking

i will not comb my hair

i will leave it wild

the wild that you called it as you brushed it from my face to kiss my eyes

and i will not shower

i will leave myself exactly as you left me

i will leave you on me

i will take you with me

breathing you in as i walk

smelling you, remembering you

and from time to time, reaching my tongue down and tasting you on my bare


no one will see you as i walk through my late afternoon

but you will be there

in the fabric of my clothes

in the pores of my skin

and in that place in my heart that your most tender kisses reach


you will be


with me