poetry snippets from my youth

poetic musings from my youth 

March 25, 1992

let me introduce you to a brand new girl

less inclined to look alive

not so in love with the world

she’s different now 

she’s changed

she’s shrinking into view

looking around, amazed

so ugly

but so true

nothing sticks to her

not anyone

not you

nobody can fix what broke inside her

not anything

not glue

cause after all

she’s different now

not sad

and not quite blue

they say that breaking up is hard to do,

now she knows

(knows that it’s true)

cause she woke up so different, baby

different after you

May 27, 1992

fate has finally pushed my hand

made it wave bye-bye

i’m stuck right here

to where i stand

too numb and broken to cry

nothing lessens the burden spent

on a useless love gone by

i wonder where my fortitude went?

i guess i’ll just lay down and die

oh, what’s wrong

with you and i

so long apart

yet still so hurt

you never want to see me again in your fucking life

and you ripped my favorite shirt

May 30, 1992

I’m afraid to talk to you

I’m afraid of why

I think I’m being swallowed

by love & hate & pride

when I hear mention of your name

I’m a thousand miles away

trapped in a maze of contradictions

my heart is led astray

I’m sure it’s just me

still stuck in our old shit

if you are too,

that’s something you won’t admit

‘cause it’s over and done

but not resolved

there ain’t no bitter end

I feel so unloved

so wholly rejected

you don’t want to be my friend

Ocean Beach, 1992 - photo by John Satterberg

1/25/1993

OB Love

boys barking like construction dogs

sound like nail guns going off

cruising alleys, peeping windows

pigeons and rubbish blown by the wind go underneath abandoned cars,

where dirty tomcats lick their scars

a bad transmission rattles by

competing with the noisy skies

under the flight path, polluted beaches

are littered with hobos and

indigenous mooches

coat your intestines with the lardy fare

it’s odor clings to your nappy hair

then draw on your clove cig, contemplate 

the UFO remnants on your plate

walk to the love shack on Cape May, 

Tap into America while beading

smoke the Victor product all day

paint your toes and your hair, 

then spend the afternoon sleeping

when evening falls, Tony’s calls

and to answer in kind you go

into that haven with vinyl sublime

and the barmen that never say no

Sweet Jimmy pours a mean libation

Ray keeps the riff-raff from biting,

but after a few, with balance askew,

Ray the bouncer becomes Ray the fighting

pool-shooting shorts-wearing long-haired locals

try their lungs at jukebox vocals

can’t ya see

can’t ya see

you’re seeing double and spinning

time to bail on this smoky joint

while you still feel like sinning

burritos at El Rodeo at two

where non-OB-tians get desperate

for that cutoff queen with a real tattoo

she’d avoid him like the plague

fighting off their bold advances, 

it’s hard to eat while being inspected

crazy whack funky meth fiend dances,

each advance he makes cold rejected

homeward walking, three abreast

we come to the sacred spot

where sidewalk, bougainvillea, and fence form a nest,

and OB love is hot

under that tubular cavern we pause,

making a pact to hold dear

the golden magic of this place

we enshrined that brilliant year