Apex/Crux

I sit at the apex
at the crux
i rotate and spin
like the world
gravity
invisible shaft
rod down my spine.
I spin and i spin and
i spin and i spin

rotating in a world
gone angry

Here at the center
of my world are
wild panic beatings

the muses inside my head
sing me to sleep at night
"Don't listen to the
anger"
Don't play the
violence,"

Expose the rawness of
who i am on stage
with throbbing ravers

beligerent on acid
or amyl or 'shrooms

"Don't play the violence,"
the muses sing,
"don't go postal"....

Do I Scare You?


Do I scare you? Do I look that scary to you?
I was walking around an art event
downtown in Somewhere, AZ,
wearing these chains, and torn jeans.
A parent pulled their child away from me,
violently grabbed them and yanked them away, staring.

DO I LOOK LIKE I EAT SMALL CHILDREN
FOR BREAKFAST?

I’m a nice guy, My leather’s new,
I wear a beret for chris’ sake,
the sign of any Artiste.
I eat cheerios, the box marked up with games
and toys children clamber to buy.
And french toast, made with eggs,
and cinnamon, and vanilla,
sugar for the sweetness,
to take the edge off.
I like it crunchy too.

Do I scare you?....

Iconography

It’s a rush-rush, hurry-hurry-
technological-do-something-
right now world
With mtv and virtual reality,
big boys with dangerous toys,
Mustangs and Cameros
vying for public attention.
The 1960’s gave us the
same struggle,

“I gotta be somewhere, and
do something RIGHT NOW.”
In the micro wave-atom-smashing-
destroy-the-communists-
hail-to-Old-glory, where is
my American dream,
can I mix it all up in a Waring blender,
bake it in a Corning Ware pan,
pull it out in, flash,
fifteen seconds, worry free
fake the Betty Crocker smile cameo?

Andy Warhol promised me fifteen minutes,
and I want to salute my mother
on an episode of
Oprah Winfrey....