a real old one...think i wrote this in 2003
she's the unquenchable moonlight
and i'm blind.
the ragging unsatisfied lout on her arm
in an upper east side rain.
honey, we saw picasso and matisse, the blurry
labor of chagall staring back at us like the eye
of a candied god;
van gogh and his lunatic, desperate
syphilis gaze peering from behind impenetrable glass.
we saw half the beauty in the world
and the only joy
new york city has to offer
in five hours time.
ah, but my mood is still dark!
my pallet numb and void of any words!
my heart wound up like a confused and
bloodied hemingway bull!
my mind is still fixated on another endless
another loud night in the darkness
of our cramped brooklyn bedroom, wondering why
the dogs bark, and the latino kids have to shout
wondering what that song is booming thru the
thin plaster of our asylum-like white walls
wondering why you still love me after i've made
manhattan a miserable gesture, and how it is
that i can sill make you smile.
it must've been the degas.