24

frankincense

three letters to c

Charlie O charlie o say I can see all the silver ice skaters that glide

over my frozen eyes

seeking equations of sunset and mist

and finding only dim cigarettes and

dim cigarettes in barber shops engulfed

in the sudden filth of human hair and radios.

Was

Down

Town

and saw the people trying to look cool and

embracing each other underneath the shelter of sun

and Walgreen's.

I danced into the sordid library

at 2:p.m.

and slid

about the public music record stacks.

I discovered Mildred Bailey was

still absent and must be in heaven alone and hot. I

Think

Jack

Kerouac

is a

Today

Lunatic and do not worship him but

shakespeare and narcissus and emily dickinson

and baldwin and prometheus who sing my perfect purple blues AND BURST GENITALS

on bloody sacrificial Aztec holy carvings

Sing for you too, Raul.

(On this your weekly birthday

i celebrate by burning frankincense and writing famous poetry in your honor)

The voodoo of my vaguely african soul

will not permit me to be delicate and Christlike even for your sake)