The Left Column

Sweet wine of Jack
Alcohol free
let me drink
from thee.

At my grave in the night
where are the crows?
Did they as well
go down below?

Stranded out back
giant white pine
breaks in a squall
I'm drinking my wine.

Winter and ice.
Rain froze on the stone.
Little droplets make rainbows.
Hang up your phone.

Sweet light of God
Shekanah
Lights in all hearts
Selah.

Who knows the truth
who'd dare to say?
Is it fear of prudence
that takes the middle o away?

Judge and be judged
I thought that you knew
Religions in kind
will help us get through

simple minded poems
balded faced rhyme
infinite tomes
written by some guy.

Drove in my car
to the edge of a hill
hiked on up it
and went higher still.

If you go to the top
you must then come down
or you might die up there
and rattle the town

With your sweet life as wine
for the tears in their eyes
So don't be surprised
that they are sensitive guys.

Sweet love of Mike
Lives in your life
Get on your bike
conquor your strife.

Pay off your debt
and please don't be stingy
And cast off regret


When the form
of a poem
is too ridgid
it gets 
boring
and who will
keep reading it
keep reading it
for the 
reason to 
say that
you read
a bad 
poem
about 
a 
famous 
Lowell
guy
who
is
not 
here
on this
world but
will 
ever
be here
like you
like me
like everyone
forever
all my friends and buds and bros
 
Sweet wine of life.

Bed.

8 September, 2008