townee: Linuses (at Santa Cruz)
Linuses (at Santa Cruz)
©1998 townee
You in one mind using your own nose to smell the pine of green flower children in love their open siren mouths sing on gargling beaches with sea-tongues
Speak to rollercoasters of fear regrets riding sunsets there warm hell fires where horned animals burned guitars, and unfinished works of art
My differing senses puke for three blocks a painting on a cliff-face golden, waiting to happen wacky sidewalk of unamusement park— an inhuman machine scene
A kraken of possessions then armless larve in cocoons we’re uncurling for beer butterflies that would later rise in a forest things which did not let us sleep as cars passed more ocean than waves at high-tide.
50th Anniversary
©1998 townee
Left because my mind married you for the fourth time before we even talked.
The most beautiful one on the verge of Jewish womanhood seriously idealistic, and hotly hoping for more reforms.
Wandered nine thousand, one hundred, twenty-five nights in a desert sweating over our closeness.
I was a fetishist with each exploration of an ankle or, the way a dress fits all six scaled-miles of my biblical world.
Wore the pale blue of a liberal comfortable cotton fabric shirt wrote this poem, where at last we traveled while you sat right as you were.
delicate neck
©1998 townee
Teaser knocked up at my door lips pregnant with drink to receive me just the vaguest memories of your bitch’s kiss and, that ass in a red dress these are enough to make any one come to your bones known ‘round as the wagon wheel upon my arrival I was led to the bravest roof the first night I met you a shiny head that rested on flat softened stomach didn’t care the stars were liars standing to spot your waist as you bounced brought down sexless hips from the woolen trampoline like a swan lake scene that had lost its constant chase drowned in the skinniest of dips
how many men are content to have slept in your bed alone?!