Poem for Mark
"Spiders sprayed with caffeine spin deformed webs"
Only the unobtainable
is worth
writing poetry, it is somesort of primal choking with words
I can't break x's heart, Tahiti is out of the question
to be the perfect mate
for those with mates
I drink Alfred
Sunday mornings and Maximus
maximize knees grinding into carpet to give them
the intellectual stimulation they aren't getting
at home
She's not that kinky, she's not interested in Leni,
her lips don't fit around objective correlative
My thumb on my tongue on a bookpage corner on the nape ofsheared association
Two in one metal box
I keep wandering around thick glass
thicker glass bricks
glass made of laughter and shoves
Quote from "Grab Bag", Sunday Morning Nov. 12, San Francisco Chronicle, L.M. Boyd