Number 1 to Harlem

Baby say, “Coooo...” and gurgles it's spit
Momma, wipe and make with funny face

Fat Boy say to other Fat Boy
he has low self esteem and wipes his brow

Black Girl look and challenge, look and challenge
Black boy look back at Black Girl

Old Woman sit with eyes closed
and breath in without breathing

Little chinese girl tell man in black coat
“the bag is heavy”, in metallic valley girl voice

Brown Boy look at Blonde Boy and smile
Blonde Boy look at Brown boy and look away

Rich Lady with perfect hair face and body
look at her reflection She admire her beauty, lament her age

Dark Girl loud as a crowd, all on her own, say ,
“20 dollars IS A LOT A MONEY!”

Dark Man Laugh and say, “Mmm, Hmm!”
with big fat lips and thick neck

Tender Boy scratch his crotch, hand in trouser pocket
look to see if no one notices...I don't notice

Fat Coat push, Fat Coat push, Fat Coat push, Fat Coat
on winter subway, small sad head poke out with no smile

Gay Man spread his legs and his newspaper and
tap his foot, both his foots, with no rhythm

White Folk get off on 110th street
black, brown, yellow, go on...

116th, Yellow folk get off
Old Tramp beg for money

“20 dollars is a lot of money“, I remember fondly
145th next stop...Harlem is HOME.

Lost Lamentations

Translucent fingers...stretch...elongate...to capture tiny bits of
lost longing, lost love, lost lamentations...that snow down like
pieces of dead angels from a black heaven...disused and abused sentiment...
hungry invisible tentacles from between,
body upon ashen body that lay strewn about the grey
landscape, snatch at the particles...it's a panorama of broken boys, naked boys
each of them with them same face...wasted masks...abandoned shells, used
personages. You float above... face to the heavens, arms outstretched embracing all...
cock erect, dew drop on dick slit, and ready to spurt it’s lustrous substance.

From the blackness it floats by...
we saw two pairs of legs where there should be one
six sets of arms, and many teeth...
we saw the thing walk into our dream, into our nightmare’s house...
float past leaving his scent clinging...IT’S scent clinging to our nostrils,
at first warm and comforting, then acrid and sick like burning metal.
Our feelers pressed towards it instinctively, and cum upon contact...but it...
the thing leaves a wicked trail of particles...covering the landscape...
covering us...smothering the mouths with it’s evil kiss...suffocating the
scenery...making all things invisible...transparent...flesh now clear...
clear-like flesh aching....twitching to be seen...the thing can see with
both its faces... it sees, and floats on...

It smiles blindly with dead fish eyes and too many teeth, puss yellow
juices bubble from its mouth and float around it... its arms embracing
an unseen...lover/victim...unseen...a disembodied voice cries in the distance
cries in the darkness, with boyish breaths. It’s head nodding from side to side
in slow motion... looking without seeing...it is a twisted, toothsome procession
floating away, leaving behind a colorless invisible landscape.