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On My Way From Ohio To Florida To Visit My Parents I Stop At The Days Inn In Ringgold, Georgia And Write This Poem
June 1984Summer
There’s the pain denied so many times, in so many ways, that I know its disguises in others, can tell an honest man from a block away: he sways on his vulnerability, no flower but fully human, bends to his breeze, weeps in his rain.
November 1983The Lucy Syndrome
The inexorable pride that haunts me, the fever of gluttony, and lust that would forego God for an ecstatic moment are the gas, grease, and oil that lubricate this Hellbent vehicle. They are tears the sperm that race up the tube; they excite and terrify but they will never, never save me.
August 1983Windfall
The hurricane gathers speed as it nears the Gulf Coast, winds now being clocked in excess of one hundred miles an hour. For two days newsmen have been reporting her progress and are congregating in Corpus Christi for a firsthand look at the expected devastation.
August 1983The Cripple Liberation Front Marching Band Blues
(Part III)
After leaving Warm Springs, I will have to learn the next steps on my own. I have no compadres about me to give me the benefit of their learning. I will, alone, have to build physical and emotional resources to deal with the real world.
July 1983On The Word “Witch”
The word witch was invented to describe those who claim to be spirit before form, to be independent of flesh while in the flesh, and the witch on the broomstick flying through the night is a distorted image . . . intended to instill fear and therefore control people, to keep them small, containable.
July 1983
