ANOTHER DAY  (6-7-89, San Diego, CA; spontaneous  stream of semi-autobiographical, impressionistic, free-flow-spill)  

 
another day
      usually  he spits
at all the oblivious
      pathological dominance
yet thinks in he  at times
      some gene  some thing
gone bad  or only
      berserk  perhaps
controls  affects
      or quirks this lad
some mutant things
      strange prominence
arrives in mind
      just waiting to be had
but will he take it
      just look at all
this evidence
      for here n resides
his confused sense
      thus finds he
at such a wonder n
      and so  slips further
away  beneath most days
      where looking up
he sometimes sees
      outlined graves
and other such illusions
      where logic rains n
thunder n  roll n fall
      unheard n pointless
but seen n mud puddles
      pool n here  formed
of yet more words
      lightning crash
crack splash the black
      yet somehow  he knows
only he heard
      so he blegs n  blats
n begs for blats n  blegs again
      just for fun  
self amusement
      or maybe just
for the hell of it
      to bend those
straight lines
      to see  to feel
the space between
      to dwell on things
mystery s in
      though others dont
think so well of it
      but such are his
criterion  and why not
      long crossed
the paths of tolerance
      no desire at all
to compete or win
      mind inscribed
with belief  or fact
      that there is
no place and there
      are no friends
here for him
      or there for that
no care in the eyes
      of those who roam
much less his own  
       now prolonged
denial  of any true
      home sweet home  
of known  or
      assumed origins
all the pain
      he ever felt
waits inside to be
      dealt back out again
he senses it there
      but hopes he never
finds or pulls
      its figurative trigger
good and bad
      just waiting
to be had
      the power to deny
the power to deliver
      does such vagueness
make you mad
      or does it
make you figure
      even those who
seek his thighs
      and find his eyes
find caves of need
      that have heeded in
like bubbles trapped
      in glass  he cant
break out  they  
      must break in
and then from somewhere
      deep within
cool hate  or love
      relates like bubbles
trapped in them
      to cast away
without hearts touch
      so much of him
as he  at times
      does of them
save for the skin
      we are all
more or less
      thus condemned
yet with it
      we are damned
even more so
      he notices how
eyes  so often
      seem to sear
and weld apart
      two unknowns
out of judgment
      or out of fear
sparks extinguished
      gone
still feely  he
      goes on again
crawling out
      crawling in
even betwixt
      the crust n  flux n
flim n  muck n
      mire worlds
of lower case
      crus ta cean  
yet  his world
      feels lower still
amid the ruin
      the sin and swill
in his mind
      if not in fact
for real  
      for truly  there s no
difference here
      by choice
or accident
      he became this
broken wheel
      that spins
and squeals
      but seems to
go nowhere
      only he knows
how far and
      deep it goes
how real  this journey
      he cant slow
so pick n he there
      through all
despair  n wound
      of trial  
and countless
      tears  shed and
suppressed
      for years n years
beyond his child n
      struggle doom n
other programmed
      fears
yet  still n heart
      some day to find
a flower  so pure
      he dreams
unfolding like
      a bursting star
brighter though
      it seems
the power of
      all things  in him
the same  
      in you  in me
cuts sharp
      as a knife
like fireworks
      going off
in the night
      bursting into
cosmic bloom
      bursting beyond
the hurting tune
      of life  he
sometimes
      gloomy whistles
bursting above
      the frightened
brittle heads
      of all oppression
locked in dreads
      or knot
he soars  into
      his golden hour
somehow begot
      if not forever
then for now
      for surely this
becomes his
      holy cow
the cut that
      whittles out
such sweet  sad
      understanding
then quite
      by surprise
his open hands
      his heart n mind
suddenly realize
      as he  himself
becomes
      a faster vibration
of energy
      of higher
frequency light
      much more
commanding
      beautiful and real
than anything
      he has ever
known before
      as his senses
and attention
      extend
divine awareness
      expands
lovingly into all
      a tingling rises
on the rushing wind
      the universe speaks
and even his skin
      will listen to
the magic
      of this
moment