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