If there was
God I think
we’d be damn
sure of it

Fishkill Rural Cemetery



Ducks there
Never flew south
Sitting in my car
Smoking a joint
One waddled
Through the slush
Toward the highway
It was white



All the faithful departed
They had incontrovertibility



if you don’t
hear from me
i've arrived

make money
not war



­­This planet is an absolute
Fucking nightmare
If you’re a human
Thank God

Poem At 48



This Is the age
When I decide
To recreate
Or destroy
What’s left myself
I've destroyed
Thinking I'd survive