For awhile
he was god
Big-Bellied
Silver-Crowned
God
leading lambs
through purple passion
fields of dreams
and stars
O
(dont let me forget)
Stars
Mist
Haze
Bukowski's antithesis
rising
from an armchair
For awhile
he pressed
chin to fist
tonguing pane & thighs
with little lines-o-love
for a very little while
God had a bent
A ying-yang sophistry
Spent blue
in afternoon trysts
with any goddess who wanted
his lyrical
lapping lines drawn
straight to starved masses
Femme's & Fatale's
fell like Rome
and thundered
for awhile
God was
Emulated
Adored
An addiction
An edict
An altar
sheaved in white
and spring
The green thawed growth
on January's thumb
for a little while
until God
hitched a ride
to a Jazz Bar
Pulled out his cigarettes
and asked me for a light
Read
from voluminous books
of dread
God bought it all
Beam Birch Hemlock
Phuck Toke Drink
Spitting
red clay roots
in a two-dollar urn
After awhile
God got it up
and read
blackened his voice
Swallowed
razor blades and pills
on stage then
washed the gravel
back with Jack
I listened
for a little while
until I realized
God
was writing like me.
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