poetry
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Eulogy for Robert Cochran “…they wanted to blossom and that means being beautiful, but you want to ripen and that means being dark and taking pains.” -Rainer Marie Rilke Five a.m. I dreamed I had a vision of your effete corpse dancing naked decomposing meat marionette attached to invisible wires bloody hollows weep crimson
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HOW’S THAT WORKING OUT 4 U? While Morpheus Greek steps out of the dream within speaking a muted language through closed captions on the flat screen tv over the stilled raving of steel drums. There is no dream, only a digitized illusion. a conjured spirit of electrons and closed casket circuitry arrives to answer pixelated
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(For my most mortal master, Robert Cochran, And my most immortal master, Allen Ginsberg) “and where is the great sorrow , that has carried me this far?” -Robert Cochran Allen Ginsberg signed the papers Authorizing the thought police To break into his mother’s mad mind One day Robert Cochran may have to sign the papers
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One Time In The Corner Tonight there will be no lies about how your perfect breasts are full as the moon. Nothing from the night sky has fallen into your eyes. The lie of the metaphor is no more desirable than the lie of omission. “I do not know which I prefer” the beautiful lie
Joey Cloudy online 