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NYC: train station

           with Fela postponed

                and time crawling

        at turtle pace

              & the Apple

       as fucked up as ever

      forgot the bottle opener

              can’t indulge

                     in imports

              such a drag

                      dread nightmare

   scared of 2^nd Street

tired of beggars

& crack dealers

& feeling desire

for any kind of woman

               but in all

           the poetics wear thin

                   at this hour

and sleep is urged

           strongly urged

    not yet possible

             lunatics and abusers

      addicts false machismo

     swirls of livid ecstasy

        beer drenched parties

      lust filled X-rated scene

         magazines and books

                can’t read

                      or focus

nude woman sucking down

               a big one

           & Gloria and Andrea

                      talking

                 they don’t really

                      like it

            & I just looking

                    at pictures

              & observing

     sex starved voyeurs

(a voyeur of voyeurs?)

           not enough

         but can’t complain

poet’s eye peering

          keenly observing

                   tho fatigue

         interfering

            & infatuation

disturbing the pure flow

        No Buddha vision

        No dharma breath

        No rapturous desire

            just want

      of a warm bed

           to crash

        and feeling Frost

in the miles to go

       before I sleep

  but not knowing

consciousness required

           for hours and hours

No end in sight

    countdown countdown

still so much time

        and all for naught

             a wasted trip

      and nothing accomplished

          and feeling stupid

           feeling a fool

     not feeling at all

             and wanting

         that beer

     but needing

              that coffee

    and still white

        and still uptight

  and not having a gyro

        and not seeing Fela

           and game tomorrow

     too long to go

just reaching

          for poetry

not attaining it

            dig deeper

      wait for train

        crash on train

               what is done

                   is both known

                       and not known

             still not seen

uninterrupted

uninterrupted

           visions of NYC

                  and grandeur

           and music and sound

                  and deep loneliness

            in my solitary plight

with the wretched

           of urban existence

        walk amongst

      the lepers and freaks

           until I can not

         tell myself apart

             and just hang on

        by the skin of my teeth

              desperate

           for morning to come

               desperate

             for home and bed

          just desperate

     to get the Hell out of here

Penn Station, NYC

1:50 AM 9-20-92