the great stream that
never ends until it
does one last bend
before it plunges in
to the gulf
sing we that
time we knew thrill
and counted hours on it
cold dew thrill
little fools wilting that
way the way
singing fools will
do their last singing
their lang syne hearts
beating ferocious
skins blistered who
are we to be mouthing
time memory time
lips like sweet pie
Freddy’s good ole
calas tout chaud
calas tout
chaud in the greasy bags
sluiced to dark holes
every one again
and again no matter
how hard we try
oh boy
oh baby
wasn’t that the way
it was the way
swear it was before
you go there again
forget it
they expire there forever
never mind thesilver
phantoms emulsified
mildewed sticky with
old shellac on the
damned cotton pulp
certainly
as certainly as
the old stripper’s ass
Chris was the name
you remember you
fools in dark alleys
forsaking your self control
for the more you know
that it is better to
let go the muddied
crepuscular screw
no stranger than rose
of tender men shining
shoes pungent as oysters
rose of women wetting
eyes on levees
time gone with lust
all time sunk in
to all black holes
amen