|Funny Things Do Happen
Have you ever felt a funny feeling
Like back in Junior High,
When you feel like you're not really there
Because you fell in love with some guy?
And you start to pass notes,
No one really knows why,
You are just so in love
With this ugly guy.
Well, that's the way I feel today,
Like I am floating in the sky,
And if some one pricks me,
I will pop and fall and die.
Why do I feel like this?
I don't understand why,
I am not falling in love,
Like in Junior High.
The feeling is hard to explain
But it makes me want to fly,
Maybe if I sneeze,
It won't make me cry.
It is really bothering me,
Why won't this headache die?
I know it won't go away
So maybe I shouldn't even try.
|Sonnet written on the back of a matchbook
while sitting on the floor of a Haight Street bar
on a cold May night in San Francisco
In dark and smoky clubs I bide my time
As days blend into nights, and so disperse
My waking thoughts into these savage rhymes-
I've said,'My thoughts are bad, my writing worse'-
But thoughts do not reflect my true intent,
which always find a cozy place to hide
Behind my real devices, innocent,
Though only through my obloquial mind
Which tells me only what I need to know,
And does not share with me the guiding hand
That knows of what it writes, and does not show
What simpler parts of me won't understand.
I write, and that is all. Just this I know-
My small hands find their own places to go.