*

shit slow membrane
laying on pillows
tired, sick, hacking cough.

its a warm november sunday-
slow-
very slow
riding up no one knows
how very sad
an amtrack rolls by
sick today
but what a glorious day an indian summer
sprung late
a baby crying with somewhere a baby cries
but not today
switch of cars
and now am here now today
riding this train again
moments of ambiguity
why do i feel guilty

**

fresh rymes spilt upon the floor
people all sit gathering resin
belive in this-
forever
mind is feeling rather abstract and spacey
must be that little cold from yesterday
the warm autumn day
humidity
breathe
gentle stream women stand unfurled
its crazy
sometimes

train boppin me around and around
the gentle sound of the siren singing
numb skull laughter rings
the essence of being
i have in my very possesion
the stuff that dreams are made of
woman beautiful
dreams shifted from abstract grace
when it rains
ring around the world to make sectors
train stops momentarily and begins to roll
lost thoughts mistaken for the byzintine empire
shoke awoke and patted down the drunken clown of
normandy

neck tretch and a moments rest
forever in debt until death
the poor man laughs in the face of the rich man
oh where is everyone?
the dreams say hello and meet them

lost inside the languide texture of ethreal vapor and
say hello to the medium

time is flying
babies are crying
people pass
two people to the right of my bench
are speaking spanish
have no clue of the hour
spaced out heros of the parkbench now

warm sunday pass her bodies tight
happenings transpire
squirrels gathering nuts
pigeons sit and drink out of the water fountain

abraham ghandi and washington at the union sq
buildings loom in the sky
up at the top i see a pigeon hide

copper turns green
oxidize

a child blows bubbles while his father watches
goddess strolls by
while i had my eye
peeled to the sidewalk
watching a baby bird eat a peace of a disgarded
pretzal
the little bird hops into the fountain
a pigeon walking on fallen leaves
junky noddin out on the bench
lookin at the people i realize
that this part of the park looks like
smack central blvd
a silver cross shines across her chest
a glance and a turn around

reality dripping
like stalactight from 14th street station
the heat
the melt of turbine fans
got to piss make this pass

a chinese woman stands
her heal forms a triangle
babies and the hidden face
the scent of grace
seeing in 3d for a change
paint flakes on the arched ceiling
my bedroom was left the way it is
when i was a kid
homes habitats
for ever peacefull
eyes absorbing sits

ears hearing hums of fans and clicks of heels
turnstlye and cheange dropping
paid fair
garbled conversations
wrapped in essence
digressing chains and waves of thought
pure
heart
weighs light as a feather
army calls to some
the beat of drum and bass
a woman squats and reads the sunday paper
bless this son
got starbucks maddness dripping from her chin
overhead 14th street bustling and hustling
away
here i am
in every sort of maddness
no time but some time
and its going away
ticket
throat is sore
wind blow
the train is coming

seated now on this train
forever the same
old picture
details of lifes essence
the sound of the coo coo clock
bring forth truth
do it now
now we must wait
cd's made and sold for free
let me breathe with you
for -
please
take this haiku
eyeballs absorbing the capacity of now
everybody
everybody is uploading their reality to the universal
mainframe
gentle showers rain downat the midnight hour and the
time we will sleep together

there be staind foot prints mark the floor of this
train
and someone smells of an old school lunch
signs hung printed and solid
as advertisment hung
lights and a roar comes flashing by
wheels gaining momentium and its sped up hum
now the train hustles along
making it song
steel verbotin deny the skys
starshine back in 94
when we played
curious of loveand forgot about the dove
that flew from our hearts and into the cosmic stew
lights on shoes
bring back the jailtime writing on steinbecks to a god
unknown
ripped apart
and told to start anew again money made and lost in
the chain of decay
imaginary realies starve the numb tongue
and money buys things
its the alloy of steel melted and formed
formed into a bar
old shoes
remind me of her
sweet madeline silent again