yes you frank

you new york fucks
always autumn
by the time you
get around the next corner
how could you ever see
things as
i do wind howling down
eighth avenue tore up
fucking field jacket no wonder everybody
froze in korea
gotta make it out of here lord god
please
no cash left for cigs or a trailways
nobody who knows me
to borrow from
answer the goddamn phone bitch
if not you
who

ever notice how musicians

ever notice how musicians
love to share how
they can't get together without giving
ballplayers too same
sort of thing
and kids with their yo
yo's and bubble gum and texting each other
so fast it makes the head spin
but poets
poets can hardly bear
to stand next to
one another
and can't seem ever to do anything
but steal and kiss
and tell and wish every day
of their lives
they could sing and dance
or even set up an easel on the boardwalk
and make charcoal portraits
that make the subjects clap
hands and suck
in their breath and swear it looks just like
if you took it with a photograph
but it won't be will it
same way we vow not to take
the lord's name in vain
and slip up again
the very next day if not the next hour
and forever be wishing
all our lost ones
would drop by in the morning
to surprise us
or we still had the breath and the energy
bottom of the ninth
to catch one more long one
on a clear summer's day
with the only person we ever truly loved
sitting in the bleachers to cheer
us on

what do we do

what do we do
when things
are more real
than they ought
by rights to be
when some moments
hurt more than
we can explain
like the mortally
wounded meg ryan
saying leave
me your m16
in courage under
fire like warren
oates in two lane
blacktop saying he
was sick and tired
of people getting
in his car and
telling lies or
like in the wild
bunch when pike bishop
said let's go or
when that three-year-
old boy stood by
the open coffin at
his father's funeral
in a bad translation
called the wrath of god
and told the preacher
his daddy was going
to heaven in a boat

father of the man

my son had a schwanz
as big as mine
when he was ten years old
but as he matured
how was i to know
i would one day grow
even smaller

whenever i reach back

whenever i reach back
into the past
to beg forgiveness
from one of you
i'm often stupefied
that those i've wronged can recall
how great it still feels
to be so fucking pissed off