memories are Transparent love affairs

falling…

falling…

driving through this hole

so fucking frigid,

and you wore red

thought you had bled

were we really dead?

tonight the French invaded Poland

in a blizzard

using dogs to sniff out the enemy,

the Polish cats were ripped and eaten alive

screeching down fire alleyways

escaping to be free again

like me again?

I am such a hopeless son of a bitch!

Changes wears a green scarf to enclose

what little warmth resides,

stands alone atop my supposed mountain

velvet snows lost earth companion,

and when she and I run together

there is no one else in the world,

we are shoeless assassins,

drumming,

flippant,

unassuming,

grabbing flowers to ease the pain

occasionally looking back to remember

some soft melody

once skated to

moving across a breezy frozen north country lake

can you remember each of our dreams

or am I the only one

lost in the music?

I confess: when I see you I touch you too

no difference,

suckers are we to use these autumn changes

to ride through our changes,

but it’s been a lot easier

this time around

finding you

and not counting those transparent times

of freely declaring mindlessness,

selflessness,

when we were willing to sacrifice our sanity-ness

so pass the deal, Jackeen:

these memories are merely transparent love affairs

left to die inside our western heads-

we remain that certain clay in each other’s hands,

spinning each other’s wheels, chasing something great

back to wherever it came from,

somewhere way far from any light

1983, NYC