My collection titled, Standing Tall in a Four-Foot House, is filled with the strangest verse I have yet produced. It contains two rather long poems, several fragments, dreams, and short abstractions. Here are a couple poems:
A Sailor w/o a Song is like a Pothead w/o a Bong
Summer went all wrong
Fall fell off the wagon
Winter is twelve months a year
You have him
and I have me
I wrap myself in chainsaw clothes
& die in the desert where the sand never blows
I wait for the tide trying to decide
which port I am gonna leave from next
I sit in an old rocking chair and stare
memories come out of my mouth
I shot a man ‘cause
he looked at me funny
I robbed her bank
Summer went all wrong
Fall fell off the wagon
Winter is twelve months a year
You have him
and I have me
I wrap myself in chainsaw clothes
& die in the desert where the sand never blows
I wait for the tide trying to decide
which port I am gonna leave from next
I sit in an old rocking chair and stare
memories come out of my mouth
I shot a man ‘cause
he looked at me funny
I robbed her bank
but left all the money
Confusion in Mouth
Meaning
doesn’t mean a thing
to me
knack yr dag dawn
yr behind the lag
on a chess board bag
enough trivia
games and weddings
I just sleep until morning
dreaming of how to
escape any unpleasantness
at 20 soon to be 21
no more money
Meaning
doesn’t mean a thing
to me
knack yr dag dawn
yr behind the lag
on a chess board bag
enough trivia
games and weddings
I just sleep until morning
dreaming of how to
escape any unpleasantness
at 20 soon to be 21
no more money
honey
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