I don't care anymore, this is my life

Who'd ever heard a'
gas station turnpike New
Jersey swamps? Driver AWOL and
no ones got the balls to step up and drive
this sonuvabitch double decker blue beauty
PA bound over quotable Ben Franklin
& his darling bridge (also blue)-- My
murky brown-green waters like jewelry
in the sun, crackle hiss miss
in golden summer rays rays, this
must be the road the gators take
to New York sewers circa 1888 on
weekend vacations from Florida
tired a' golfers lost their 80 dollar
Topflite balls and go divin' clear
everglade water hazard arms dun
been bit right off "Oh, holy shit Christ!"
the government'll reattach it, or watch ya
die, just mark off your sosh, three-two-four
it's what ties us to those great heroes
of American pasts, Oh, and the income tax, too

Now let's get this bus a' rollin' south mama so's
I can ice this knee Broadway tired
and Broad Street stoned;

We're alone on Bus little sailboat, sailing down
only you and me, we're floating home
or away from home or whatever home is
anyways, and where we're going?
I don't know...

Seems about the right time

Boy the East River looks nice today
though I hear it's really shit
and that's what Long Island looks like
if that's what I'm looking at (or just tagging),
no wonder the Islanders are bad
(but young), makes me think--
passing under "safe" pedestrian tunnel--
I amble--never made my peace with hero
Doug Weight's retirement (how we're all
dying--older dying, gray haired dying--
look at me-- dying) still wonder
at that old number 39 magical passes in
the offensive zone coated white ice,
transition back check between those blue lines
While I'm here at East Riverside Park not
sweating under the trees, little sickly New York
sad trees, safe from computer entry, every website
BLOCKED, slave labor internships about ready
to say BYE-BYE New York skyline,
hello New Jersey, rest in the orange grip
of Philadelphia--
some currents on the surface are brown,
Where fore swims the fishies, oh?
Why
they
swim
so
fast
crying, burnt out in the waves?

Reachin out to the my past so pillowy gone

Why there me Newark in the fog,
what must be goings on on
Broad Street? There I'd get
peanuts (one dollar) walk with bottle
water and catch the sunny glint off
big Prudential cause all the buildings
in Newark say Prudential, at least all
the ones I seen, even the one
that buried Chinatown, Planes
takin' off to their towns
other towns & cities America other
time zones urban sprawl and
dying, wouldn't you say? so say that
other Penn Station down near Market
Street gateway to the Ironbound, Brazil,
Men in old jalopy yellin' out windows
traffic struck not movin' an inch, Portuguese
is what ya hear & music, ya there's music
coming from off by the railroad railyards,
but I'm past it (years pass) Budweiser ever
crawling, even on wheels, double axle--
back-n-forth
back-n-forth
Oh, Newark
for soft bed and rest

Suns over Newark

Crash stars go heavenly Passiac
waters steel skeleton rusted
holy angels, boney rot rot
golden man's sun on
New Jersey, wherefore did'st
thou star tumble in blue globe
upside down, I must be watching from
the Milky Way yeah, See all the
cute dead burnt circles dwindle teeter
blinking out
million miles away

Stormy Bus Stop

Brown funny high rise topped by
wooden water towers and
my little 5 year old self
thought they were made up
in my youthful Spider-Man comics
and villains  terrorizing New York Water Supply,
sun dips below the hard blue
cloud ridge, solid and only its light
a memory, memorial; It's beginning
to look like Megabus standing in rain,
winds got that summer roll on
thunderstorm feel and track to
track regional NJ Transit lays
down foreboding prelude, time to
rain, saw Noah's immemorial pasts
preparing for God's sad storms

Goin'

Here I am without tv
and writing comes so
naturally (Oh, without internet too)
just pencil & notebook,
adjacent to my table- two men
one high on heroin? Saw the
needle used, showed his friend
(grand scheme) one cop I guess, said
He'd have shared but bathrooms
locked and buzzes, my shirts sticky
with sweat almost forgot it's-- warm outside
in the climate controlled AC, it seems like
winter or some calm fall day in paintings;

that's a lie, it's balmy-- hot,
felicia'd say it's like Taiwan,
almost, cept less humid-- how that
could be true, I'd hate to know and
clack of walkie-talkie down the aisle, if
only my phone'd charge I could
get to the bus station, sweat and wait
for my driver-- throw my shit inside;

I'm going- south Philadelphia
hop the bus
home.

I had a religious experience

Grays outside across street
woman in gold skirt and low cut
black blouse takes cellphone stance
(in building opposite) and watches
teeming like 1950s Times Square
crowds sense of loss--somethings
ubiquitous--
Wow a cd player, its been awhile
UFO saucer shaped player of
useless shit, I listen to the haunting echo of
footprints, cash register tolls, men
holler to each other 'cross street
construction caverns,
the NOW classical music of the
urban fantasy, tall buildings overlook
tired souls, oh, we're empty like little
sad pigeons pecking our way through shit
and precious stones--
     smell of concrete crumble,
I just realized it's over cast--it's
what I meant by gray outsides
and no rain, are you kidding me, no rain
just cloudless cloudy gray sky
whirling endlessly magnetized
growing cancerous cells whyxxxzl
Hail Mary mother of God
pray for us ignorant masses
diving headlong into bleak subways
inhaling smokey plants and
cellphone tower waves, pray
for us who have been dead since birth
sleeping on street corner madness dying
     knock down our roachy walls
our brick-a-brack terror dreams
slipping molassas thick rises
purply dawn--
grant us your womb
so that sadness and life the living
death, aging may release its golden
liar grip
     I've fallen like bridge and choas
white--
Bus gurgles hours off down 95
straight away sit floor above n' roll
two hours older
I miss all my suffering ones
Your youthful eyes

Thus it is
forever today and
never
never--

D E -

With trolling voices this is
when I--
Aww Hell, I conjure you face
sweet smile & dark hair cut now
but once wavy over your eyes,
I'm ready to say "fuck"
and walk out, hear the road
crunching outside underneath
the subway lines out Brooklyn
to bus station & anywhere else,
Great West stretching to
mile wide Mississippi or
southern heat and fresh fruit river delta
instead of bluey floors
water treatment tanks
talking bitches
and
boring ass videos-- beep beep deep deep
Cas Calloway--

Moses traveling the East River

No sun & no stars, that's you
Manhattan mid-town sky,
it's night-time blue glow
eerie phantom spectral sunset,
reflect blackened windows go-go-go
up 30 stories easy
new-age pyramids commemorating
corporate greed, CEO bonuses
and high-rise offices (how cliche')

Dear old Robert Moses-asleep
face up in pretty grave-
how many flowers are laid at your feet
still? You take them,

we take one glance at shiny grinning face &
walk some 20 blocks,
Oh, well a poems in there somewhere,
Ya love New York.

St. Patrick improv

I make believe (I'm a child) childishly
that I'm sitting strung out facing Kerouac New York
in his seat at foot of St. Patrick's Cathedral
dusk and rush hour
heavy wood romantic doors behind
rushing crowds run off to live to die
come from Times Square ignore marble steps
but heartbroken there's a restoration
project & stained glass window
Visions of Cody is obscured
ah, there the police are going again,
so murdered at birth we are
an' linear streets go-ooooooh
North and South
over the bland walls left stranded,
I'm contemplating the setting sun already set
in reality not really setting just floating
or falling? Or not even there?
The end of a sentence & fire rages near
near hot dog stand, what's a cop's care in
Old York but terrorizing the ice cream man?
We sure as hell are fucked,
right?

Pencil shavings

Went back & walked NYC
without you, felt alone beneath lonely tall buildings,
like I could cry for all the children growing old
unknowingly in 5th Avenue penthouse apartments
talking on wireless headsets & dodging traffic--

Hey me! Retarded anachronism sketching notes
on white notebook while you're on solid blue bus
rolling south on I95 steady, everyone of
those passengers locked into G3 matrix reveries
awaiting the AI messiah, I'll hold you for the rapture
if it comes, where it's extra-dimentional insane--

and why, oh, why won't this notebook scroll down?

Stupid

Car breaks squeal at steady intervals
light switching NYC street
up above I catch the sound
with my hand with my ear with my nose
inside two story raised roof terrace
rooms rising (fallingrising) up two more stories
Chelsea Star Hotel like
Arabic Middle Eastern Flag logo
brown & sandy under
heavy powder blue sky sifted,
the world's so small for eyes
yet big & clumsy & beautiful (sometimes)
for the mind if only we'd
see it as it is on strings spinning round
firey gods, timeless and young--

Me

What time is it? Jesus...
I can't tell and tho the
light's off I see
everything like shit
's still in the toilet and this
last beer tastes like I'm only
trying to finish it to sleep and
is that all I am container for
poisonous gases liquefied, how
I've forgotten to write anything
but the truth that burns
magnesium bright in tonight,
or wherever whichever how I am
an estranged idiot who works best
as holy spectre, respected only
because I'm never seen walking alone,
I'd drop my head to the sound of roving
cars outsidebeside wide open sky
blue blue fireball ozone thrill, Me
I've many miles to bleed for the horizon
all lonely skeleton x-rayed paradise perspective
like my little boy stoner voice
bewitched bewitching fucked

Food

Who'd sit across from me?
Would bury their head,
do bugs strike same wound twice
like i think they did,
itching my leg, trying to
conjure images of no sensation
which don't work all that well
with rambling and a lot of
words start double u--

it's obvious
and lighthearted,

decaying in my bag are
nectarine & orange,
look at the food square,
pyramid, circle,
it's accurate & important,
Yes--

untitled

Well when I sat at that
church near Rockafeller
decadent plaza

in NYC

Did I raise my head from
angry parents, tight skirts and fragrant lunches
to catch
filtered light on stained glass relief
50-->60 years

back

flies on charcoal colored trash cans
an' finnish kid sleeping off 15 hour
jet lagged awkward convo

in room

when I gotta shit (and do)
real quick, get outta there,
let'em sleep yes

I think to ask him--
what the fuck?