i am listening to notes
on the fogged la jolla shores
it is pupping season for the sea dogs
they look tasty but they are way to laid back
to do anything wrong to
there are yellow ropes
for these mutts of nature
i say dont cage them
cage us
even me

you hear of the stories
of firecrackers thrown

you hear of plans
by fake militant hippies

but i know one drunk hippie
who tells me fuuck the seals

i say
amadaeus rise
i want to play
in the fogged dream
in a dream one night sylvia plath
came out of the shore
she looked scared
i wasn't
i knew the lazares poem
ive read her jourals
why cant the seals read lazares
why cant i say the moon is yellow
why fuuck with the seals
whats the point you have yellow light
you ride in a red wagon
all the while wishing for green

i know the recipe for making cement
seven shovels of sand
two for cement
one for lime
yet i do not know
of the walls of plato
i do not know of the shield of shelly and rimbaud
i know nietzsche by heart and hesse
ryhmes with emerson
anne sexton smoked a lot
i went through a whitman phase
but now i only read him backwards
ive heard the stars sing when i read lorca
ive heard langston hughes write the blues
or was it of a blue light
i can go on but the seals
are down the street
the cold fogged beach
ectasy

You always write great poems

beautiful sweetie

for some reason this reply brought tears
thank you

Awesome!

im feeling the love
going to log off
and get some fresh air

Jimmy-such mention of writers I haven't read in years. I think I'll get out my anthology book and read myself to sleep tonight.

iT WAS GREAT

excellent piece jim

excellent

youre excellent

Mosttttttttttttttttt awesome work here my friend,,,