- 1. Excerpts From The Diary Of Damocles
I don't dare speak too loudly,
some timbres could be fatal--
that string is not too strong
...
- 2. Death
Going to sleep, I cross my hands on my chest.
They will place my hands like this.
It will look as though I am flying into myself.
...
- 3. Poem (chicago)
'My age, my beast!' - Osip Mandelstam
On the lips a taste of tolling we are blind
The light drifts like dust over faces
...
- 4. (end) Of Summer (1966)
I'm tired of murdering children.
Once, long ago today, they wanted to live;
now I feel Vietnam the place
where rigor mortis is beginning to set-in upon me.
...
- 5. Castration Envy #11
Tying the pimp in dreams to a lamppost
His tuxedo wet with wheedled kisses, can
I wake up sucking the footprints of toilets
In jails that glitter like crash-dived marquees.
...
- 6. Poem (after Your Death...)
After your death,
Naomi, your hair will escape to become
a round animal, nameless.
...
- 7. The Enemy
Like everyone I demand to be
Defended unto the death of
All who defend me, all the
World's people I command to
...
- 8. (poem) (chicago) (the Were-age)
'My age, my beast!' - Osip Mandelstam
On the lips a taste of tolling we are blind
The light drifts like dust over faces
...
