best poem i ever wrote about jeanine? prob this one

“oj and courtney and everyone but you”

i writer everyday
and ask her to come back
but i do not send em
i think about younger girls
or bigger girls or wilder
girls arent what im lookin for now
but you know that
and its not super, man, thinking about all of whatever happened
that added up to this
which is me alone at 2am
suckin on a pen
thinking of how i write and write and nothings

you drive through the desert
and you see two things
oilrigs pumping and windmills spinning
motion and no movement
spirit, no action.
whirling and whirling
typing and hoping and praying
and thinking
im gonna die without her
thinking im so stupid to even be thinking

everyone gets over theirs
i got over mines
whats so damn perfect about this little flatchest grrl
with her perfect hair and lips
we’d kiss and cry and lie all night
slept in so many rooms
all over california mexico and foreign lands like
gretna and maui
whats the good lord got saved for me
do bums in the street with heaps of dirty clothes used as sheets
snoozing away in a doorway think about what the lords gonna bring em
and who am i to ask when theyve got real dreams
i just want my little girl.
clouds pass by overhead silent in the nightsky
theyre going to where clouds die
and theyve seen her why dont they tell me hows it really.
the rain, it rains, and it pours on a little pink girls bike
half falling down no kickstand
im damned why wont he say it
in a holding cell not hell but close someone in the cloud has a rope
but theyre scared id use it the cheater way and youd see dangling converses
in the morning with milk but i got better plans dear fans
i just want my little girl.
and they bowl as the rain pours tears from sobbing saints twentyfour hours it flashes
semis blow past spray mud on the corn and i wish sometimes i wasnt born
you dont need me what role am i bukowski kicks the crap outta this guy
dont sex good anymore and i cant hit a curve
i teach fools how to sell im the king of the nerds
so whys he got me breathing still aint i paid all my bills
maybe thats it.
shit.
i still want my little girl.

if you had a blank slate tonight what would you do

break out

sometimes when im flying to new york i think wow what would i do when i land

and then when im out there and im thinking about what people are doing in LA

i think wow i wonder what i would do if i was in LA tonight.

who would we be if we knew it would be ok to be totally different?

gen x used to think about the perils of selling out

being someone who you arent for money or security or whatever used to be the biggest sin

we used to judge tv shows or musicians or politicians

for not staying true to their ideals

even though we’d do all these phony things to be loved and accepted.

so when are we truly ourselves

and when will we allow it to happen?

love halloween, hate dressing up

Milhouse Van Houtendont know what the problem is with me and clothes

but we have a huge problem.

im even told i dont wear shorts well.

i’ll wear a nice hawaiian shirt and some plaid shorts and some white socks and sneakers

and im told that my shirt is wrinkled, and it doesnt match the shorts

and my socks are old and white and have lost their elastic

and that my shoes are too big for my feet.

so the other day i was thinking, maybe i should just dress as a Blues Brother for the rest of my life

black suit, white shirt, black tie, raybans, hat

and a harmonica.

but im sure someone would have a problem with that too.

halloween is the worst of them all.

no matter what i wear people are all, who the hell are you.

so this year im thinking about either being Tom Morello: Cubs hat, done!

or an Insane Clown Posse dude: white and black facepaint and orange soda!

i went to one of those Halloween Stores last night.

what a crazy world that was. they took over this abandoned mexican grocery store

and even though the place was packed, they only had two registers open.

so i put down my mask that had nothing to do with what i was gonna wear

and went home.

i hate waiting more than i hate clothes.

sometimes i think about the sea

sometimes i think, what would happen if they took the h outta h20

what would we see in the ocean if all the water vanished

sometimes i think, what would happen if we knew when people lied

is that why God doesnt walk with us any more?

he cant stand the lies?

for us its a language.

its like squinting with your ears.

but for God, its gotta be like listening to people with tourrettes

he probably would say why do you keep belching out these unnecessary untruths

why do you care what david letterman thinks of you

or the american public.

sometimes i think about the sea.

think the sea knows theres a black president?