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I, Pit Bill (July 1999)

In order to bite
the hand that feeds me,
I must be first
let off the leash.
I toe the line
to gain the Man’s trust.

Afterlife & Astrophysics (May 2000)

One day all things
will end for all time
if not for all things
then at least for me

and then like rain
falls from cloud
to land to stream
and then back to ocean

only to be
I will return
to the place I came from

sit down in my seat
and watch the next act

Until the universe
starts to contract
and red shifts
all turn to blue

The stars will
to a mangled bright heap
only to explode once again

Senility (January 1999)

Stealing away in cold blood
having robbed me of all that I value
time hides his snickering smirk
behind an inscrutable mask

Having robbed me of all that I value
my best friend leaves the apartment
behind an inscrutable mask
of shame mixed with pity and anger

my best friend leaves the apartment
leaving my mind cluttered with thoughts
of shame mixed with pity and anger
I’ll kill the bastard if I see him again

Arriving (March 2000)

The elevator doors
split me in half
as I step through the gap
to my alienation

Half of me, right,
I leave behind in the box
to return to the lobby
and fly out the front door

The remainder, left,
comes sits at my desk
Its hands and lips move
dreaming of freedom

Surprising Recollection (September 1997)

Five minutes in mornings
to hear the birds chirp
give us the chance
to recall what we have.

Forty hour days leave my eyelids hanging
down to my jaws, and then to my knees.
Like an ape, I wander,
aimlessly munching, walking through all that I do,

unable to focus my mind on one thing,
since it no longer is just one piece.
I drop to my knees,
sinking in mud,

Please help us (late 90s)

The world is awash with pain and grief.
Children born to us here become warped.
Living in the shadow mankind has cast,
we twist like plants, striving for sun.

Each man walks in the midst of sleep,
trying to find his answers,
only to hear, once he awakes,
that his yearning is unimportant.

That which holds true meaning here
are the things which make us evil.
The gifts of life, the beauty in people,
are lost like smoke from a fire.

My golden shoebox (November 2000)

When I reach 
under the bed to fumble
for the box
in which I keep
my soul
carefully wrapped
in silk

I often imagine
that it's horribly
blackened, charred
since last I carressed it

Faith (November 2000)

I am the essence
of all that is eternal

water breaking 
on a rock

shattered into fragments
every time I strike a blow

implacably returning
to be broken yet again

inexorably smoothing
the hardness I despise

Teaching (spring 1997)

I wield the sword of an infinite future
to slay the demons of all our past failures.

Since time began, we have poisoned ourselves,
each generation feeding the next
more and more hemlock to drink;
more and more evil to think;
and more and more shit,
through which we must fight.

None of us here can combat this condition.
It’s scope is beyond our control.

to Dance in a Rainbow

My mind resembles a pinwheel
spun by the winds of madness and delusion.
My soul, the glow of a virgin sun
shining through treetops just after dawn.

Morning dew reflects and refracts.
It makes my soul shine brighter.
But the winds which stir my mind bring clouds,
casting gray in the places where once there was gold.


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