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Personal Note:

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Poem

People ask me why I hang 
out with Burroughs and Bukowski 
they have this picture of me
this image, they assume 
knowledge and scholarship 
on the subject of ME
Yet those who understand 
art, or think they do 
know there is more to
Mona Lisa then her smile
Depth of perception, illusion 
mirage layers. I roll
with B&B because 
I can relate to them 
on a unique level. No
I am not an alcoholic 
I don't drink no 
I don't shoot Junk 
I've never done drugs, yet
I can relate to this
loneliness. That desperate
feeling of being trapped
trapped in a crypt or
maze with myself. The 
only comfort the other 
dead or dying, never
quiet in the same state 
as myself. Cold, chilled
the howling of ghouls my 
only company. Trying 
to be free, get out 
of the well, the hole 
that we all sometimes 
revisit, some never able
to crawl out. 
Stuck
        down
                below 
                        the
                             depths
of anyones perception 
but my own. Trying 
to explain situation 
is like returning to 
a hall of stone statues 
unfeeling
uncaring 
unnoticed, you 
jump into 
the pages of "junky 
               of "Come on In"
and you find you are 
not as alone with this
Big Beast, this shadow 
of loneliness, that is 
always there in your 
mind, the back usually,
the symbiosis, the parasite 
that uses you like a 
whore or donkey.

A literary AA meeting 
where we can all relate 
to one another. Similarities 
sharing can save those 
in need. B&B have
helped me see who I am 
the best anti-depressants out there.

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