Stein

have I been there,
or, had I been there,
to be direct, another porch
another hello, another goddam
another dingy coat, head for the hills
just to feel, oh, just to feel, I guess,
head for your lives, it's one thing to strive,
another to survive, clingers on, wasting time,
should I have want to illuminate
why would I want to romanticize
a tome of holy lullabies for death,
let daisies circle my halo like a head,
there's nothing like a fall from the last steps,
I'm hanging out with the worst of them,
we're all fucked up,
I'm looking at a simple man
pick the small straw from my hand,
a lot is lesson sent,
for hail and high mercy,
the street lamp flickering sense,
nom: resistance,
what is it I cannot comprehend,
is there any stone in this river still thirsty,
is there any exile still at home with friends?
O cite quasi morte,
how your vines have wrapped around my bones,
I couldn't stop or put it down
and I began to rock and moan,
a dusky sort of pale pillow
if I were to call the kettle
and let you really know
the secret of my black heart
I would be unfit to show.