Treasure Island

Dog goD 8Hate

(Grass Valley, Ca.)

Vanishing New York

Yeah, I know, for one -
the lost Bowery...
I'll tell you what was there,
along that cherished old tract:
I was there! ! !
I and my just-joust, zealot's heart...
committed (it’s suicide) , saturated in
an obscure-scope of gaudy-god,
what's ironic, Hell religion.
Yeah, I was there & bent on the cause,
contending daily contra forces,
they (modern capitalists)
steeped in the GROSS illusion,
would roll on the walk of my shoe.
I, chief negator, astute in the cause
and what's beyond that ludicrous notion:
baloney fried with hog snout,
in savorless, blood-meal gravy.
Me, by myself, standing daily
tall as that copper Lady, the one French
in the bay.
Only MY torch had light, 'REAL LIGHT! ”
beyond mere intensity or stars. I...
with my mightily & imbued psyche,
so staunch, so given, so rare…
filled with 'lunacy? ', His!
Yes, I was there,
for years and years,
but now...well now...
now I've achieved new status:
I man-a-cure god's nails,
and with metaphoric files
made in my own notion,
contrary versions
in colloquial craft.
I saw... I see…
and I saw some more;
I eat his dignity, daily...
breakfast, lunch, & dinner.
It’s… VIRTUE! ! ! ! !

Submitted: Saturday, September 25, 2010

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