Lincoln’s Place Mat (Poetry Book)–>Dedicated to the Memory of Trayvon Martin, May Peace be With You

Lincoln’s Place Mat
A Complete Collection of Poems by:
Saleem BaHameeDee aka Melo Miles
A Toddler Starry Night

Sleepless in Panorama City
Star bright, sleepy little lights
The City is owning these nights
Quiet dreams, endless things
Mask with senses on stings
The pressure of pin drops
Needle, sleep with needle
Be the end of this boxer
But we’re sleepless in
Panorama City, panoramic
Views of freeway blight breath
Little strip malls
Strippers with Parliaments
Getting nails done
And feeding their family
With 5 dollar Chinese food.

Laurel Canyon Carl’s Junior
This slip society burning on up
The Koch brothers want to
Turn you into an
Unrenawable resource
But there we are
Thinking we can
Be instagram star!
And Laurel Canyon Carl’s Junior
Give me something that
Won’t eat my veins up
With clog, milk shakes and hot dogs
Hansel and Grettle constitution
Ready to fatten you up
Because the Koch brothers
Want you to fatten them up!
And Republicans don’t like
Stringy chickens to feed
Their fat pig faces.

Brushes with Life
Dead man walking
Dead woman walking
Whichever identified
Do you remember
That brush
With life?
I do! It was
Fun and dizzy
She loves me
She loves me not
He loves me
He loves me not
Whichever identified
My heart has feeling!!!!!
Not PC at all
But that’s
A brush with
Life before
It goes sticking
You onto the 60 East
With old smell
And sweat pants.

Sideways out cough
On each other constant
Humdrum he’s not
Listening to me
So many thoughts
Nowhere to go
On the Freeway
To home work zombie
Left my sweetie at home
Badlands bonfire
Western Knolls
Forgot to give
My love
My home

Got to get it got to get it
Drink and drive
Town in back
Let the wind blow
Teenage boy
In Laredo
Make me money
Trained to eat
Picture this
Clammy hand
On her
Fast life
Trip to

Blue Diamond
Stars and stripes, stars and stripes
When the truck is parked out front –
I know it’s almost time to snow –
Snow flakes, corn flakes, sleepy diner
By the straight-jacket Highway 79
A number of fun and folly, casinos
Out back like Australia on a pale moon
Driving the dizzy little bushes with
Tongue soil jive me, play me like a
Bucky tune, I’m trying to envelop you
In my eyes, I sleep dizzy time over time
Drinking, mud flaps, the earthly hollow
Drinking a Mexican Coffee on my way
To Looney Tunes, Blue Diamond is sleeping.

El Paso, the Despicable Hate of Chubby Fat Micro God Micro Man Gatorade Blood Clean-up Aisle 8
Tonight, the sleepy agent orange glean
The president hates suck mean
My immigrant hands will unpeel these
Teams every sense I have I will raise
Your dangerous crawl creep man with a gun
In tow ready to take a family of four
Gilroy’s El Paso gun control taking every
Little gun of the micro man every sense
You idolatry prison harlot breath
Cloak for a second to soak I will take that
Gun from your dying breath and
Spread rancor in your tiniest plan
Police officer I will get in your hell
Get in those two beady little snake eyes
Uncover the hatred before it lands
This is a juggernaut bend no wall
No way no plan I take that away
I think intelligent Ceasar swinging
In the scariest swings with
Nuggets of revolt to your head
The socialism is urban get in line
To give away your every microphone
Censor the dreadful and painful
I’m moving away you better believe
This Julius Ceasar man don’t stop
To you get your Helter Skelter of thought
Medium of God the peace the calm
The trouble the swan the planet
The claiming waters that never cease
America is my land you better retreat
Immigrant cleats what more do you
Think I will grow in your every fear
Take the fox to fix regulate your kicks
Slip and I will take the Guns of God
So micro you look for war in your
Path pencil me here taking over Trump’s
Land, civil war with crust in the w writhing
Eyes so awake ready for more
This is my land the welcoming home
Rapist president I will take the toll
Ready to toss you to the defenseless full.

Ice Mauve Drinks Garey Avenue Splits
Ice Mauve Drinking President’s Tea
That is a grand ballroom dancer
All of the spit and shine bar room
Boots bull dogs, the top rocker
Dance with me by the blade
The Rose’s bloom so lovely
Spit shine girl rise
And play, Ice Mauve
Is a dancer with words see
Worlds you see dizzy.

Ice Mauve, Yellow Cadillac
That there Francine
She’s a funny show
Every day I go
Can’t wait to
Come back for more
Show tune on two
Stop for a talk
Get your go shoes
Yellow Cadillac
Black, pump.
Tender toes, nice, plump.

Ice Mauve, Kitchen Fink
“Yeah, that fink”, yellow belly
With a lemonty drink
With a young tender
Doing about 73 –
That there let me tell you
He’s a fink, a yellow belly
45 days until he drop
Fink on his drink
Empty all of your
Questions on me.
I know that you were
Coming around here
And that Judas would
Put a hole in me
But I’m Ice Mauve
And the coppers love
My girls company
Like Kim Kardashian
Shell game in shell oil
Shelly, dwellings
Those pretty toes, she tells
Me, you a dirty
60s leprechaun dream
Hold gold sweet honey pot
And the streets definitely
Seen an Ice Mauve
Machine stud sing…

Ice Mauve House Playing
I was about 6 or 5
Knew I made the girls go alive
Playing house with Fisher Price
Toy hearts, Ice Mauve is a sweet smile
Some sunny sunshine on my smile
Listen as I think your thoughts a while
Make you cold feet for miles
Think out loud, every little
Car on Holt Avenue
Going to be stopping
For me for a smile.

Ice Mauve, about Making Half
I’ll make half a bit, half a movie
Because when you hear half
I hear break, I like that
Money in my pocket any ways
And that apple turnover in my nostrils
Making sweet, butter drizzle money
Every dollar is a sense
That I wouldn’t get with no
Dollar and ice on my
Wrist, playing hookie
With poker chip daughters
Gambling, girl, rambling magic
How the money ends up
With half, both her and me.

Little Apple Dealer
Anonymous dealer
Held in holds barred
Those arms crossed
Blank face fold tear
The balance of dimwit
Drinking with a fish
Fisher price game
Four women who
Are not your wife
Wild night in the
Vanished point of dunes
Drab dry and dark
High cheek bone girls
Like to get dig shovel
Ovaries throw them
In the pot man at
Home got bills to pay

Nectar Smile
Sweet nectar smile
Dreamy little stars
The way you knock
The ground out of me
Moonstruck pale
Shivering with blush
You made a man
Out of me a giant
In the crackerjack
3 story, our little
Nest got so stirred
Up chattering voices
I want you back
In my tangled buds
Making senses liven
I am punished by
The drink of tall long
Swaying swings
You sashay all over me

Commerce Casino Dew
Honey dew, honey do
The tangled ten speed
Won’t you ride on in
The tempest with
Wild card hand
Joker with a quick drink
In his slipshod hands
Aces, please faceless flee
To the waste keg
So many cobweb pleas
Making moneyed squeak
To your knees with
The coldest shimmy drink
Commerce Casino jumping
Jacks to queen glares.

Sleepy stranger driver
Capital capitol money
I’m your monkey for
A tiny drop of money
I’m the money man
Money maker shaking
Baby syndrome slugger
Slip and slip no slide
Economy to cry, anvil
On the dime the pine box
That rests in front of
Calculus bills so many
And Ramsey Jesus man
With plots and dots
All over my stranger
Voice so quiet it only
Exists in your mouth.

Casino Cake
Dig in, spoonful
Got that, Spock
Treck with stars
Peak by block
Rows and rows
Card traps and
Snag finger snaps
The dealer with
That surprise
Cake casino.

Coffee Club
Club me, calm me
I’m driving a zoo
The merry go
Round it goes
Round midnight
I came walking
on home
And now I sleep
The terrified
Things coffee
Club Bam Bam Pow

Sleepy Little Apple
Sleepy Little Apple
Tempting the smiley dice
Men and ladies sleep nice
Black Jack White Hat
Surrender spy glass
For little snack
This little apple is pikes
Bridges pretzel in
The Statement claw
Let me explain what you saw
The Little Apple train
Opens up with two
Twitching touches
Railway, walk way,
Sleepy ways, syrup
Clawing awake
For a sleepy day
In this Big Apple mayday
Dreams that will
Conquer the senses

Tea Leaf
The Tee Leaf
Skinny girl with
Goal posts turn
The little lips
Red with dread
Manager, manager
All in your pretty head
Tea leaf fortunes
With teller hands
Quiet still
Droning good time
Music, finals
With another
Golden State
Princess with
Tops low
And tips high
Frowns then fly
On your feet
While whole hands
With few cards short
Living in this
All of us here.

Loose Change
The pilfered pedigree giant baby
With giant finger strings aligned
With the petty politics of cheeky
Flesh on flesh flames in dreams
Drinks in flames – whole future
In machine mighty mightiest
Roar of tiny money-hungry capture
Of tense and trite kite high darling
Always telling me honey deity of
Daisy scents and dizzy sense
Rapturous smile with hand on money pile
If I could only know the terror
Of small business booms and
Every level of tombs timeless tongue
Set up and teach the slit eye liar
Those that bask in the gore of labor spliced
To the core, happy at the calamitous cold
Ripped from the health, families torn
Loose change with hands that are guided
By monstrous thingy claws swimming in sludge.

Tigra (April, 2019 Tiger’s first Major in a decade or so)
The dreamy stare
The day you dazed
Me, confused me
Drew me in your
Honey hands
That dreamy night
Sleepless and
On to the earth
Crashed this
Meteor the liveliest
Lovely I ever knew
Was the second
I got a kiss from you.

It was a dark sapphire hue,
Hello there
She curved me then slipped the drink to me
Having me say secrets with a chocolate mink
Her coat was a coat which spoiled girls turn
phrases she is just a little quiet
she stole my heart as I crawl with drink.

Take her by the pencil legs she claws
Every day danger in the bar Canoga Park bar sleepy
That time when you ride away for the night to hell-raise
The cloying clients to roaring blackness perched raven eyes
She had those pencil legs and fast mouth boy got her
Into good times and bad times whatever it takes for pencil leg girl
She talks and snorts her pretty nail toe tomorrows she lives
In a basement of desire, she loves her man’s addictions
And now she is tonsil girl she tells people laundry stories
Sonny Legg knows the type he knows he speaks the not allowed things
Sonny Legg grabs her, screaming with his eyes beating her silent
With the drink talk he doesn’t know the person she became with his spoils
Of hog heaven so much fat slaughter to sleep with steak in tummy
Tommy Tommy, he knew grabbed everything, the whole world by the throat
And owned it all heavy head up he was the king of Mecca, Mecca Vineyards
Martha Vineyards, he was Tommy and tonsil pencil leg girl knew everything
He slept in the sunny chair after playing with her emotional colossus
The City dying roller-coaster, so many trapped in their bedroom waiting
For years for their enemies to go somewhere so far but even
After 10 years of hiding and ten years of nice guy life they can go down
By one man or kid with a horrible memory – those good memories
Of devil horn deeds, watch out, they will claw back with fang flings
But now Sonny is sleeping and reading in a Canoga Park motel
With the locomotive rail hoover yeah all over the carpet she
Tells them secrets because she was holding them deadly venom
Even keel, he played her, even keel “Does he know that you don’t like him?”

Clods of spit, spitter Jack, he’s an angel of hell I tell you
He’s a spitter with lampoon heart, with harpoon song she slowly twists
In his dear arm breath, kiss of a fatal drink, she slips into his hands
Bitter man, rambling about the roadway ahead – severe man
With lung foot, cough foot, when you are sick of driving and tossing
Over phlegm stories of little starry eyed darlings with retail black hair
Thick the way she spins you to a perfect moment just need a drink to
Slop up my emotions and hello and I stopped looking I just don’t
Eye contact people I just don’t relate to a stranger with eyes locked I know
I’m a drifter with stupid poem or stupid power can’t laugh to nothings.

There is a tremendous energy in the felon’s eyes
The felon sees when you break bad
He’s got the razor blade to your throat ready
I’m my own man – I built myself alone with all these emotions
Just that way another man is a gram of himself yelling and belittling
Into the juices of damn I don’t want nothing
But hurt all around me I’m Chicago walking with him
Walking with him where those don’t coincide
But let me walk with this kid Sonny Legg let’s call him
He was born to Southern California and that
Listless spirit of party party yelling fighting all around me
Because you don’t know California unless you felt the
blood of the cemetery on your lips
You think it’s all game and no trips
There’s so much blood on the Pacific Beach
Because no blood makes you a punk unable to defend the Ocean from the rats!!!!!

Chicago cold in this place.
I saw her, she had the
Perfect gait, she had a nice waist
But her hair was matted yellow
On a brunette and her lips kept plump
For a few dollars she would take
Your man, your dad, she would
Wednesday is when I heard of camel
Yeah, they used to say look at feet
But now she took her game to toe and
Took a young woman’s first kiss
First dance, her whole innocence away.
And she did it for a big giant money man
Producer man with a big ugly gait
This little woman with a swinging gait
She saw the puppies play by the gate
And now it’s frosty outside the quake
Yeah, it’s cold like Chicago in the
Quake state – rocking so much sate
She took this little girl’s future
Icy man grim he is grim he is limp
He takes the people away
He takes the bishop from his sheep
People from its sheep or is it a golden day
When the Jesus men pray away the
Desires of men and women
Can she be forgiven for
Taking a young woman as prey
It’s so cold this grim reaper beard
I see her, I see that she will never walk
From Gamergate from proud boys
They are so proud so theory proud
You can’t stop the beating of the clock
It’s the beating of the rot
I was so happy to make it to 18 candles
I didn’t see my wife’s cake until I
Turned 35 – a baked cake Telegraph Road
Telegraph to industry lakes
Tonka toy lives and a fallen cancer from the 5 freeway
Let me ask you this, did she quake?
When you took her future away with
Digital manipulation and mental masturbation
For the glory proud boys life of MAGA violence
Do you really need MAGA violence
Do you really need to be silent
MAGA me a life that I don’t see
A grown man penetrating me
As a tiny tike but I don’t now high as kite
High as Kate she like them 8 balls
She like them blue diamond kind of high
She doesn’t remember but that
Little girl she going to remember when MAGA was not so MAGA
No MAGA was not so MAGA big woman with money
Took her from her first dance but it’s okay MAGA
Going to MAGA all the people into jobs
They should shut up and be happy
They don’t know my theory state ethno state
From a MAGA college boy
With tiny little dick
But here is this Mercedes driving girl
The kind of lady that talk dirty for a
Parking spot she has the big parking spot prison
Maybe that will bring the love back into your heart
Your just another lost girl on the Chino block
But can you MAGA that sweet girl to respectable
Because she will have the little slut worries
When she supposed to be a little girly girl
Protected in this world by all of the big uncles
The talk tough and got a fist to prove it
The big uncles that keep the girly girls
Playing dream things with Rapunzel worries
Ice man he of little faith he hate the people
That told on him but he free on this MAGA day
He took the silencer to the Mercedes car
He talked his pillow silk on her matted ear head
She was sleepy with all of the dreams he talked
Into her ear and that’s what she did
The ice man left her sleeping and purring
That Chicago day in the Quake 5:52 am.

Dog Lung
Presser price, fisher price things
Juice that star God with wings
Dress up for the camera world
The camera world open opus
Opie and Hocus Pocus plush
That very indeed life
For that very indeed wife
Prisoner blasts cop blunder
They let a killer free to kill
Dog lungs, playing ace on
A small cafeteria bench, tied up
They let a killer go with only go
To go and take as many souls
As he can tow on a blistering day
Congenital C.O. with Dog Lung.

October First, 20!2
That’s when I
Looked at this
Message and I
Wanted so much
More – I wanted
Your words to
Sleep me, stop me
Drop me – every
Little word
Your honey words –
They just played
The moon
with clever doom with
Your slippery croon
You ballet danced
The ceiling with
Stars and drips
Of little stories
Coca Cola dreams
Rock and Roll
Sandwiches – your
Sitting in that
Office with
Files in the way
My Perris princess
My match, my chain
Gold as the sunny day.

Merry-go round world
Ups and downs girls on
The side – take your girl
To the side but she don’t
Really care right now
She’s dizzy – too dizzy
Donuts on the shelf – boy
Go pamper yourself – you can
Get some thinking done
And she isn’t yours -NO!
She belongs to God
If her parents let her go
Into your brawny arms
And wide smile – nobody knows
Beleaguered youth –
Everyone is watching you!
they seen a thing or two
Elder man, watchful, let’s him know
There’s no place perfect even
If it’s home – it will
Be alright, trust me I know
I’m still believing when some
Don’t know – Global Warming
Weather, so hot in September
Hot on Halloween, Lakeside Longo
Trust me – if you feel crazy
She been there too –
She love a dizzy man like you
She understands the ups-and-downs of you.
A discarded trigger temper, trigger temper
Trigger finger on donut glaze
Hold it still, there will always be
A better day
A day in your thoughts and smiles too
With good will
In your dreams boy
Just hold it still.

The bones we pick, bones we flick
That graveyard swan always
Climbing into the blue
Remember me, shouting from his waistline
Where are you now? Looking for Aztlan
Looking for the words we used to speak
Royalty words do not like that game
Speakers spit on menace to the mirror
Man, I am scared, I barely could look
Into my own eyes, I already know I’m humble
But there is a paper trail where I sit
There are crumbs by the Venice shoreline to Imperial Courts
Imperial, Royalty
Toker has left his footprints
Gone like a toke in a lightning bowl
Like war said, the world is a ghetto
So I don’t be scared where I’m at
I know I’m bigger but my beat down eyes
Looking down – really I’m looking forward
Really, I’m looking at tomorrow when today is strapped thin
Survival words east side survival worlds survival and revelry
Survivor words trump survivor wars tell them what you see
Royalty royalty royalty everywhere beside me
On this 13th of October, let it be known
Royalty, royalty everywhere the eye can see.

26, Gone, Over Doses

A flashing light ambulance pale
Palor, switch knife figure fail
When you don’t know how to
Cope, you medicate
And swallow the ghostly calls of bitter
Ugly, brash, toxic, avenger
Daddies not paying their babies way
Juice, pressure, pampered, medicated
Now he will never see
The fullness of a life that he built
Hiding in forever
Keep all nights
all over, doses.

“Sick ’em! Sick ’em! May” Country home blanket fog
Not like them city streets smashed in smog
Young man, don’t see, young man, don’t care
Say King, Say King, until he’s a jumper
Long life with little slumber or fast life

#################long slumber

long slumber
13th Apostle, he’s staring right at me, looking
For the tax man, tax man, “Repo” man
Waiting for the 13th Apostle with
Black, skeletal hands.
Last night, sleep tried to snuff me out
And wide awake with death on breath
Behind the sleepy hands of jacket dogs
Ready to sleep and pound again –
And the 13th Apostle becomes a disciple
Of Christ – but the guillotine
Is waiting to take the money
Back to the people.
13th Apostle, where does this violence
Come from?

Pressure to Do What Pays Ya

The cemetery is full
Of doing what paid ya

Always, the same

Trapped in zoo game

For comfy couch zoo
Spilling dribble milk’
Cookie crunch
And a baseball game

Wheel of misfortune

Smiling cookie fate

The only sense we make

Pressure to stay paid
Until pension is paid

Faceless talk the way you drown out
Someone’s voice, face, flesh, commands
To hold their baby to be a king
Circles of madness
To leave the grasp
Of a killer earth that preys on poor
The day you took first breath
You took first step to
Freedom and Ursula sucks out life like cancer out of smoke
Little girl
With dangling dreamer eyes
The greedy little weakling
With USA hat and
Nepotistic darling
Candy shine girl:
“Oh Daddy! keep us sealed!”
Ursula speaks quotients
Dragon ICE drinks all
Quench thirst on bureaucracy pimple
So much red tape to keep
Families apart,
Mangled tweetstorm policy blister
Country needs hands of mortar
That built these American dreams
Or little capitalist cages
Where we sing love songs
And dream of Plymouth
Ursula with a presidential seal
Make the masses squeal
Give me your wretched
For me to eat with Catsup and Dairy Queens
Boot stomp internet freak
Click-bait bullies
So scared of the world
They created profit mavens
And prop up buddy dictators
Powerful play hands
For diamonds and oil
To make it home
Ursula’s cold coop havens.

Half day, half heart
Heave ho, heave ho
English is the only
Language I know
So who told me what
More is left to say
I am in a prison
With what’s
Left of today.

Bird cage – sitting duck
boiler heart sleep
I saw a crack in the code
and slept all day
heavy with xany
zany with thunderous
shouting to the city quiet
take me home to the
bird cage
I’ll sit with canaries and canards

Dangling Man

There is no blanket
Starry night to drink
Fall down drunk
Yelling out ranks
Go to them banks
Nobody want you
Dangling around
Sitting there
Nobody cares
You’re drifting
Close to the edge
mental strings
Trying to make
Life go blank,
it stings
Go out with a bang
And speak with a whisper
Sleepy sheriff
Don’t you know
Ain’t no man have
A home

Christmas Crawl
Santa, santa
Giving and taking
Reindeer dreams
Months of slipping
Into yellow walls
Geriatric pudding
Mashing elves hands
Into tiny toys and tots
Little ringing slots
Casino cattle
Las Vegas gruel
Chinese fortune
Christmas crawl

Raiders in the Playoffs
Fourteen years of anything
But just win baby
And yesterday a broken leg
Years of making it out of
Tonsil tantrums and lump
In stockings christmas with
The silver and black
Just got a little more shiny
Shiny looking at the new
vanguard and Tom Brady
Is getting as old
As I am so now
bald when i had full head
of hair and ideas about
what this stream of
black holes black haunts
oakland one day
and more in store
with a broken leg
before egg nog
dog chewed bone
and bruising nail bites
Raiders in the playoffs

Fire, cloudy brain
Fire with aim
All of those tantrums
Anger roping me
To a gurney
Bursting in place
Hate on my
When the
Night comes

Francine Free
Grab him by the tippy toes
Tipping point mashing
Hurtful words, Francine
Just tell him which way
You want to play him
And he’ll fall into your day
Francine free swaying and
Taxing him with little
Dancing breath music
Sit next to him
Most likely to succeed
Just enough, mushy money
Let him mush my
Wishes together
Francine flush with happy
Just coming home to be baby
After spending the night
With creepy eyelashes
And guzzling drink
Francine with a gum pack

Gingerbread Bulldozers
All these little hands
Caressing gumdrops and
Ballads of news drops
While the reporter says
Death all around
The bulldozed
Power in meaty hands
Now if that ain’t enough
Need some more nihilism
for the garbage hearts
Nothing to do but point and hate
so empty inside oh so empty
you think you’re jaded because
you don’t believe in god
gingerbread houses calloused
crawling skin in your twitter throat
oh let me attack
the garnished fortunes of militant louts
all life is a game
inbreds with clubhouses
don’t let nobody in

Last Day
“It’s only the last day”
When somebody starts the clock
She talk all that talk
And now she all knocked
Up and out go down and out
She is laughing off the lout
Who talk about I got this and I get
That better until she done got beat
And he locked in a drug treat
Struggle to muscle out
Damn, last days of time
Singing the mama blues.

Prison College Boy
Yeah, you gone sell
your soul for tuition while
some loud hoe makes
about 500k going down
on random crouds of dudes
running to the
the video gallery
pervs will cough up that cheese
while you working for that degree
to make 2c on the dollar
college boy are you
sure you want to read
them books?

There was once
a day that
a knight
was done up
for british knights
on 7th avenue
square garden
sound minister
she fell by
a lake
that was
all pissed on

Summer 2016
The pencil neck drawn close vest card
Game with no parlor, pallor, blue
In face folly flaps flap jacks
Pencil neck with big mouth and
A mutton chop, go see there
Out back that be savagery night
So many chips fell, so many
Emptied out and hallow callow man
With big thoughts of bewildered blab
Just dog chewing shoveled stomachs
Begging for more of the same
Something happened which is more of the same
Scared and silly stringed with clips
Of menace and mayhem clocks
Blockhead with easy access to death
But it’s so comfy right here right now
Child shirts everywhere child candy
And what lurks beneath the gurgling cud
Chewing the summer stink with
Slinky feet running around
Dangling pretty toe feet on summer beach
Studious night and quiet scene
And then I heard a shout
And something so neat
If all lives matter
They only matter to whom?
Alcohol drinker dogged job bolted down
To car staunch crashing jarring hit
To the leaky faucet flanked
In corner with coveralls tag
Name tag spoken up eyesight
Black bodies on gray and red
Dashing how this concrete eats
Nine year old in San Bernardino dead
Summer sizzle boil over mad but sitting and
Stirring in delicious mamba
Five officers killed! Just last week!
Five officers and one sniper
Strap coma kids to the edge of their beds watching
Death and blood crusty mouth gap
Tooth gremlins with gusts of gusto
Launching on summer dreams
Summer 2016.

After All, it’s a Small World

After it’s all good and gone
We’ll cherish the thought
It was a small world, after all.
After all, not only swans have last song
It’s a crash and that calloused rock
We hurl to ground and bay
It’s okay, It’s okay!
It’s a small world anyway!
_2007 (Edited 06/18/14)

The Watts Towers
Short of breath
Must build, must build!
And place up sky
Blown down favorite
Memories of oddballs
And tall days
Summers by 1866
The Watts Towers.

Jewel Country

Jewel country
Out back
Let’s all rake a dollar
To some day break even
Big old land why?
Can’t you get over?
The forest fall?
Let it all
Be land of dollar!
Afghanistan has
Lost an Opium war.

Lincoln’s Place Mat in 2014

This place mat – there’s food
On top for a day to waste
Sitting and waiting to die.
This place mat – took a lot
Of hard change
Tossed to the side
Like Lincoln after homicide.
This place mat is where
All kinds can gawk at fat
Belly rolls, eyes rolling
The latest car rims
Torturous spin
How numb is this talk?
Crashing from throat
Get the fuck away!
With that sleep, with that
Desperate cry for something to eat!
Something to think
Something to smoke
Something to pound
Something to see
For someone to hold me.
And shallow and chaste and winded and rigid
Having a savings and I’m building my way out
Of this placemat drink,
And jolt that workday
Up and out of sleep
Stumbling to my feet.
Every weekday ends with
The remorseful thought
That I’ll be making
A greedy man wealthy, healthy
A McDonald’s CEO?
And calloused in the cheers
Like get the fuck away
From my limo today!
Lincoln’s place mat in 2014.

America the Somnambulant

America, America! Confusing!
Patched up, and clawed out
Like a jigsaw piece in a cushion cluttered
Living room with a jealous walk
Move over, make-over, getting older
And, “she didn’t have my food ready!”…
“So I whooped her!”…
In America…
The somnambulant, walking down street.
Here, you may sleep forever
And forever hold your speech
Cuz’ you can’t pass, you can’t pass!
Here, writing dirty little secrets
With luscious smile and
Greeting…that twist of a shake
Taking one home
To cleaners.
Be ready by 4, to unclothe at 7,
Hoping to get a job by 10,
So you could have food on the
Table by 6
To wake a restless kid
And find daycare
To breathe a little easier
About all the obligations that
We made…
To one another without any
Readily apparent agreement.
America presses and pleads
And pulls and prowls…
For a real safe shack house box, where
Massive amounts of guns sleep
ain’t nobody gonna violate me
In America, the land of the sleepless.
_Dedicated to Trayvon Martin R.I.P.


Making it to doubles
And making it to triples
And so many see
The end and crawl
To the sideshow
For today’s lament
Somebody buckled
And somebody sang
For ten candles on
Thin ice today
I want to see my boy turn ten.


It’s still Spring!
Here we go
Merry-go mind
Ups and downs
But all contained
In the blueprint
That is the day.
A note for Langston.


Every season I see
That things will
Come out swimmingly
To be young! To be young!
Every night my hands
Don’t ache! No, they ain’t!
The blues knuckles of
Working on the cold floor
I’ve seen it all opened up
To the ceiling I’m
Watching everything
Unfold into my hands,


Is it possible
To have a life
Without anybody
Asking around?
Where you’ve been?
How you’ve been?
How they been?
What comes next?
These are the
Questions that
Make up family.


He held the pieces all in place
But lost his way from top to waist
He walked into the arms of ugly
He watched and clawed every
Sense from the scattered recollections
In harm’s way – War on the brain
And he drinks and drugs today
Into existence like strapped boots.
Harold – he has no time left
It’s his day to vanish and
This man once led America
And he walks woefully erect
Into a packed peninsula of death
And he talks smack with stacks
And coughs and spits up mashed
To one day lead himself to his face
In the mirror – with those
Two eyes that never saw much of a man
Just a figure – a vague idea
A pulled apart possession of God.
Harold is gone and today he sits
Watching the stars take the stripes
From his American flag that he
Puts to rest on his friend’s grave.
It’s quiet in Afghanistan today.


Lake, landless, stretch of trees
The ocean must make little men dream.
The poorest climb to attention
Sprawled near the floor.
I saw a man stranded
By Starbucks in Moreno Valley.
“How we have abandoned our youth?”
Lieutenant rises up and spits
“This here is the home of the brave!”
“This here is where we live!”
“This here is where young men
Become boys, crying at the side of their beds.”
That’s what I told the lieutenant.
“This here is the greatest piece
Of everything that God has to offer!”
“But the young man is prisoner
To restless nights of being hunted!”
“Does this not break your heart, Lieutenant?”
“One day, lieutenant, you’ll be on
Top of the food chain
Begging God for answers”.
“He has already answered and
This country is free! Even for
The lost and the voiceless!”
“That is true, lieutenant, so true!”
But will you run and fight
Or fight or run or hide or I forget
What action is acceptable
Because I’ve been running
In circles trying to slap
On some visibility to myself!”

The Heart of Music
Hello there, my heart
Filling up with songs
Whispered by my lover
How much I fret
About little things.
And here she is
The heart of music
Dancing with me.
My lovely Maggie.

21 Months
That’s all it takes
To make a fortress
Of tonight
How special
Your kiss felt
Before leaving
The beauty of
Bed and dark room.
21 months in
A toddler gaze
Looking at the
Love from
My sleeping angel.

Take Me Home
Take me home!
Oh, take me home!
There has to be some
Way out of this mess
I’m going to make it
Into the lovely arms
Of my sweetheart
She takes me into
The heart of time
To sit and wait
For another ride.

Sleeping on Couch
How I wanted to hold you
As you sat there in pain
Trying to take our argument
Into the living room.
I wanted to comfort you
For years and years
Of being alone and
Being so tough and
So wrapped up in
Others concerns of
How will we all make it
As a family.
I wish I can comfort
You with every
Violin vocal cord
As you slept on the couch
That one moment
Not accepting my kiss.

The Ring
Our ring was cracked
And it was fine
All ended fine
I want the greatest
Of all dates
To celebrate
Our fates
Coming together.
Will you marry me?
Over and over again.

Worker Problems
I’m just going to go
To the place where nobody
Wants to go
And why would I be
Such an idiot?
Nobody knows!
Nobody knows!

Professional World
I’ve got these problems
They’re not one of a kind
I’m out there poundin’
Taking a beatin’
But throwing some combinations
And getting’ some restful few
Hours of sleep with
My doll, with my doll.
I should just ask my boss
What is the plan?
Instead of guessing
And running and watching
My dumb ass get confused.

Yeah, you from the North?
The north side? The west side?
The little big block
With machetes and stopwatch
What can you do but say
The federal law is after me today
Because this circle got to stop
Banging on the block
Banging on the block
Red, dead, crab, crump
Crimp, cripple, crimps,
Fred Hampton was slaughtered bro
In a cold shoulder type world.
And I’m reading the news
About folks and tokes
And people and blokes
Clockwork death trap
For a tourist to slap on price
Gone bro with the wind
And water and watch the
Heavy boot to face.
That’s called Fascism!
Hello world, another young buck
Doing a dirty old man business
Welcome to the block now march
For the millions of feet to free
Man from its Pandora Box patriarchs.

The Watchtower
There is a long look
Outside a big hook
To sit down with book
Somebody? Somewhere?
Power is an illusion
All these hands in collusion
Trying to send us
All back
To the auction block.
Options and stock
Walk to the stop
Money is yours
If it belongs to me
Or so I told the
Young robber
At the Thou Shall Not City
At the watchtower.

One day I thought I was Capone
I ran around owing nothing
And taxing them all
Trying to take a visit with
Come, come!
Take a trip
To the bottom of the glass
Frosty tops and salty rims
She watched the wheels
Spin in her man’s eyes
Chicago, black nights and
Passing stars and passing bars
Walk to the north side or the
South side and pick up socks
Off the ground, look them shoes
Decorating the electric lines.

Corey Harris
Taxpayers, come on and
Pay for violence and hate
When chases take place
Chasing some dude laid out
And waylaid with worry
And he would have been 22 or so
Today. Instead he’s bringing
The Police State back into the
News planting evidence on the
Masses of people. Come and
Take me! I’m hungry
To be shown the beauty
You’ve shown to Jesus
Who died by the police state
In a place, on a cross. Israel?
Today? Israel? Palestine is burning.
I guess things never change.
Young men are dangerous!
To the established set
That established threat.
Corey Harris is another
Young man who couldn’t cry
When he was gunned down
From behind. Because fair trial
Only exists if you’re lucky
Because the police will end you
As fast as you can say “Hail Mary!”
But so what. I didn’t have
Self-esteem either.

Circling Around
Sometimes it’s good
To stop and smell
The sweet blood roses
By the grassy knoll
If we can clamp greasy
Hodgepodge worker hands
On to the moment we
Would just stop and go
Off to the sunset
Where nobody knows.
At least I have a schedule now
Throwing the work around
Here, build this ugly road
And all of these things
That suck the soul
From the world that
The Mad Man planted
On to the lady
On to the child
On to the crux
Of a money game.
Just stop
And spell, the smell
the roses.

There’s anger out there!
And no one wants to see
Spilling out of military
Statement look at all
The people talking
And living with anger.

How? Big boot! Stomp
The life out of college boy
Aggressor, Aggressor
Meet with tank and anger
Fight that big boy
Fight that big boy
Fight and fight and fight
Military statement with boot
Blood clot, hands high
Better hold it down
The anger, the frown
Keep your head high –
High enough to lick the ground
As gas canister ends
Your vision
Look the world
is falling into the
Greedy hands of a few
Wall Street hustlers
And big banks, big banks
Monstrous big banks
Eat my money
Eat my dreams
Be fat, America!
And Ferguson is home
To the free this morning
I’m out here watching
And watching as the world
Turns any which way the
Master speaks, sees, touches
And then you drop
Take a drink
In America today.
Here, take, I made it with
My flesh and bone
The police will have
Final say on whether
Or not you breathe
Because the blackness
Of your hands and feet
Unfold your arms
This preacher is fucked up!
Eve, here’s Adam
He will be your master this century!
Here, child, here’s a broken
Man for you to piece together
The cold, cold stomp
Of a military bug
I’m just trying to eat
With my UCLA
Education and
My dad dying
With terminal cancer
And I’m so angry
But then what
That’s 35 years
And then I look into my eyes
And cry.
Ferguson is burning!
No, Ferguson is burning!
No, another young man shot
Resist, America, resist
Soon they will take you too!
All along
All along
And I will pray
That this disturbing day
Will cease and ease
My discomfort
I’ve seen it all before

The End of the Year
It’s only August
And there time goes
Flying around
And black lights
On ground
I’m trying to concentrate!
Oh, yes, concentrate!
But my mind and heart
Are giving in, giving out
What has happened to me?
It’s getting close to the
End of the year.

How’s it going?
So much
So soon
So quick
Tuesday Morning
Wait there’s much more
Coming and going
Need to slow
Things down.

Spilling all of
The tarnished
Dreams of soul
Climbing lepers
Fettered in place
Panic and haste
There’s so much
Bleeding sadness
On the landscape.
Ebola time
Ebola time
I’m fearful
I’m watchful
I’m standing
I’m praying
Prey, in the way
Of a plague.

Every Moment is now
Look at it all add up
To now to now
Pressure about pressure
And sometimes there’s a
Pause in the action
I’m lying next to my beauty
Breathing hard from chest
Now I’m driving away
Missing her touch
Away from it all
And last weekend we fought
And it crushed me
She makes the now
The provincial
Every moment is now.

Wasteful Spending
Time to take the wizard wings
The lizard dreams
Ding, ding, ding
Credit cards and calls
Too many calls
Trying to balance the
Unsteady storm of
So many bad decisions
Spending and spending
Trying to make sense
Out of doom and deficit
And let’s throw a marriage
Into the fire, into the fire.
Wasteful spending.

Marcos, the Machete, the Lucky Lady, and a Duffle Bag of Money
Making the emotion spill on to the floor
How he got talked into this whore
Let’s see what night may bring
Let’s see just how much he’ll sing
To the police by the banks, by the tree
Really all over the echoing street
Loud, loud, loving loud, pounding loud
Into the abyss watching the clown
Turn into a scowling mercenary
That will be the end of poor Marcos
The king, the crab king, the lucky boss
Throwing his macho mittens full of grease
Onto the penniless as they feast
On old sandwich meat and fries
Bags worth of money for devil pies
Moon pies and apple to the eyes
She dances all over Marcos free
Free bird and free sinner all over
Running into the blue blackness
Those bruises on her hips
Those rosebuds on her lips
Tears and rain pour down
She tucks it into her gown
Trying to make that money last until tomorrow
Those three months ago there was no
Idea that this day would come
To Marcos as he lies with his head
Pounding from cracks from a machete
With two old socks and a couple of pennies
Driving all over the Hollywood brackish
Brown phlegm on top of laughing and snorting
Tying it down to the market big old ugly fish
Standing for a young prisoner contorting
Into blocks of metal and cries from a mother
Cries that will never rescue man as the covers
Drape over a senseless body outlined in crack rock
She had it all over his stiff talk and talk of cock
And banging the back of her head with two-by-four
How much Marcos can this young woman gore
Lots and lots of problems to explore
And the detective is wondering how lucky
Can a young lady get because Marcos was something
Wanted by all for years of ducking into the crass
Into the minutia of some broken broke ass
And she’s lucky to be ticking, to be sticking
Another day into her veins full of nothing
And she was once a young mother.

A Person Walking Slowly
A hobbled hopscotch over crossword steps
And puzzles are left blank-
Distracted models, motors-
His is picking up a slack pace
Around soft earth and scoffed touch
Clutching those thin handles doubled up
Like dumbbells weighing his steps downward
Dressing up darkness with pressed smiles
Quickly he peaks, speaks in hushed tones: gentle man
“Stare not too enviously at this calloused castle world”
This guarded thing that trounces
That cheapens precious thoughts, meaning…
That leaps out at your dear eyes, wheezing…
Don’t hold your breath its not you whom it smothers
You are just a person
Walking slowly, pausing
Watching the shadows thin and stretch
The length of never-
Being there means being everywhere
Your every all in a slight pinch of
Todays look like yesterdays.
To us all it does, in some way or another,
This man has senseless care
Slowly walking through the thicket path.
_Circa 2006

San Julian and a Sleeping Bag
Wishing to hold hands in
the warm sleeping bag
Tucked in, spiteful, bitter winter.
He sleeps by a buzzing roar
by a buzzing road
by all the buzz of Downtown L.A.
If we could just walk away we would
Just walk away forever
And never utter whisper for a home.
Just running away until all
Thoughts cave in, thoughts depraved
Thoughts turn into shakes
Craving for smack
Digging for a snack
While the moneyed gawk and shoo
Away the penniless from their play zoo.
Another moment to find his
Palace in a sleeping bag.
Sleeping on San Julian Street.

Bobby Salmon
Bobby talked in a scattered drone
Bobby talked ’til the birds flew
Away from his desperate pleas
To have someone to speak to
Bobby washes his arms , poker-faced.
Bobby pushes his luck
With a screwdriver tucked
In his back pocket.
The police hate Bobby’s talk
They beat the quiet out of him.

Kid’s Gold
What if we took your keys
And watched your drunken
Stupor take you to Fifth Street?
Would you yell “Greetings!”
“My keys have escaped me!”???!!??
Kid’s gold and start-ups and technology
Make you better than me?
4s and 5s and girls graded
By kid’s gold for your souls-
Your naked body is a ten
With 100s of 100s of thousands at hand, at reach with click, safe penthouse.
Gentrified, petrified, chicken stand, stand in the
Rain of someone’s smashed-up storm.
Kid’s gold for a cell phone
Call to the money market army
“Better stop sleeping around the money!”
With mud-clotted boots
That Tent City is an eyesore
And this kid has loans to pay
While anything is at play.
The police will protect this kid’s gold
While a person dies at 50 in the cold
Dumped by the devil’s play police
And Bratton gets another hell
To nurture, to nurture, to protect
To clean-up with no morals but lots of money
To say, “Who cares? My daddy charges a few hundred an hour or more!”
Bratton always makes rich families feel safe
While the police boot-stamp crush
A young person’s dream
To sleep peacefully in the streets.
Kid’s gold for a coffee
And small talk and
A lustful tuck and brush-up to
A beauty, a ballerina
Of provincial youth. Being tucked in
A loft, cozy bed, cuz father said:
“Daddy’s little girl will have doors opened”
To push out families already broken
For a pile of Kid’s gold.

ISIL, ISIS, and Rolling Heads, Rolling Rivers
Dangerous loop of video, social media wire
Weird video, weirdo, weirdo videos, snuff video, wired torture for God?
I know Cartels do this stuff for drug money. Is that the Devil?
Are God’s people worse than the Devil’s people?
Watch the wires, there is hate in your belly!
Tie me down to God as they avenge God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Is peace being an Atheist?
Because Christians shocked and awed Iraq into a billion
Sectarian pieces by the men and women of God, George and Dick
And Condy, and Norman, and Donald and Hillary and all those
Beautiful war children spouting God’s love and killing
Lying for young Americans to pick up alcohol and drugs
And violence imbibe violence. “Here, this will make you feel better, VIOLENCE!!!!!!!!!!!”
While heads are literally rolling for God’s people
How wonderful this God power is?
He even makes the news bloody red like plum sauce
Please show us peace, tree, flower, plant
Please show us peace, atheists! Atheists!
Is God’s last hope the uncaring, unblinking minds of Atheists?
I’m pretty sure Atheists will not avenge God for my benefit.
Because that’s what religious warriors do.

They make this world more peaceful by clearing it of
Undesirable people to God. I’m trying to understand
What makes religious people kill so religiously?
Does Jesus cry? Why does man and woman always crucify Jesus
Over and over again. Is it because he’s there. On you neck.
Tattooed on your body. Forgive me God, I’m about to some
Horrible thing but it’s okay because I believe in Christ?
Good lord! I am at a loss of words! Dear God, Dear Lord
Sweet lord, baby Jesus, something or other.
If you didn’t get crucified maybe we would stop
Praising violence and war? A religion based off the violent act
Of murdering a good, just man. Christian, this is your salvation?
Or is there actually people who love God and show it?
I don’t know! I seriously don’t know! I seriously don’t know!

East San Diego Prostitution Ring
Baby girl, baby girl!
The devil is in the details.
Baby girl, stop looking so old
Stop folding for the man and woman
That wants you to feel unloved
How brave you fight, how brave
So you can be thrown in a truck
And paraded by gangs
How many worrisome nights
To have these men fight
For grizzle, for flesh, for power
God is just a belief in good
You will not find it in this business
You will not find it in this business
Sad, sickly, frail evil laughing
At the brink of hell in this little girl
Who’s blinded by capital
Somebody else’s fingers
All over your breath.
And High School girls
And old fucking men
And parents that are in hell
And hell, please stop
Driving these people fucking mad
Tossed aside
Little hands.

Two Dead Cops
Ferguson and a world
That hates
A world that is spinning
Mad and sitting in
Violent juice
Violent juice
Impulse to get rid
Two dead cops
In New York City
And so many
People shot
To death
Thug Christianity
Thug religion
Two dead cops.

Sitting and Eating at McDonald’s in Montebello
Lady with a handicap placard
Sleeping in her car
All bunched up and warm
Who left you without a home?
My dad is sleeping in his uneasy way
Sleeping and waiting for the
Comfort of his family
And I feel guilty and sorry
Like I tend to do
Apologize because God should be apologizing for you.
He sees it all over and over and over again
Pasadena is fighting embezzlement scam
Preacher man throwing utility money
Into his church and car and mistress
Probably too and this doesn’t concern me
It haunts me, it haunts me, it haunts me
Can’t people say what they mean?

Discipline and Thought
Our minds are places
They fall and flail at
Time so preciously away
When all of your family
Is sleeping after crying with
Laughter or fear or something
Echoing in the night.
Are minds are places
Left to be unearthed by love
Precious little girl
Your daddy loves you
But he locks his feelings away.
Precious little boy
Your mommy loves you
But she dances her pain away
After a day of pushing and
Pulling her thoughts together for
Discipline and thought.

Hospital Food
My brother is sitting there
I’m watching him grow
Stronger and stronger
How much I want this
World to bring you in
Into a safe haven for artists
And so dad is clinging onto his breath
Withered away and growing tired
I wish I could stop time
And crawl into my child
Skin and run around without
A wrinkle in time
And there we were
Sharing hospital food.

A Frozen Dinner
Pounding away at the door
Pounding into the backdrop
A shovel and snow pick
Pulled on to the side
She stopped seeing all
The magic in her eyes
Trying to push her hourly
On to her lovely lap
A frozen dinner and a glass of wine
The slim figurine
Ballerina shadows
On the subverted ceiling
Lovely smile
Lovely smile
And tender thighs
What a fringe felonious figure
Dancing with devil rhythm
And the girl is trying
To make it last
And make that
Dollar raise her out
Of childhood stupor.

Barbecue Crew
We all pitched in to make
A scene, a big wide open thing
All of the climactic twists
And turns of B-Boy and B-Girl gall
Barbecue crew with linoleum
Twist that break, DJ
While she spins in place
Pops and locks
We all pitched in
Now we about in our thirties
And we were so brand new
We were so brand new
Our voice was cracked
And we thought we
Could say everything
We knew, rap song
Rap crew
Floor masters
And poets with special forces
True voice of a desert thing
Trying to make it
Trying to make it
Into the harrowing game
Of big music
And magic – international.
And today
We remember the
Glory days of just
Pick it up and do.

Wild eyed, three year old
Madly waking construction
Dizzying circles in brain
Trying to hit the schedule
Right on aim right on aim
Horses running all around
My Tuesday afternoon
Talking and talking
As I fidget and fidget
Trying to accept dummy time
A project to go through
In the hot Palm Springs’ sun
Locker room with odd smell
No sushi trip, no baseball practice
Stables and talking about
What needs to go on
Before this project dawns.

Sonny Legg, Country Jam, No Butter, Rye Bread
To the scintillating sun beat honor on two
Feet, the foe, doesn’t knock, life on blow
Tow man, can I hear you, calling on a
Mercenary prisoner with hot head
That is the end of a working man
Dying on a tow, for a few 50s to
Suture your ex-wife future, fancy dancing
Clever how you met me here, with a
Smile I wear you out drizzle on sugar teeth
Thai place, quiet lake, dark eyes, somber
As the magic where with clever drink
Sot there and get all of the free out
Of free, feet free, dancing for God is
As graceful as you believe
But the devil is the easy way out
The no plan man way out Sonny.

Sonny Legg, Chatsworth
Irk, murky, England castle girl with
Blue sapphire fire bright eye with
Dollar on the tonsil tongue tied
How many dinners can I hold you?
Sonny makes batting eyes shoeless
They played in the mills reading
Nothing but nothing stares
How quiet is calamity family freed
Of all of these dangerous forest clicks
Money moon and money sun and time
On the open closed swing dingbat dreams
Let me hear you speak all of the boring
Out of you, with long witch red nails
Evil creature dreams dulled up
With cute little dimples on mother perch
Sweet little lullaby, hold me, thing
You beast thing beauty has her
Tiny little hands in my pocket
This little Chatsworth coffee roost.

Get yourself a Shooter, Sonny, not a gun
You can get yourself a girl
Pearl handle girl but
If she got ten bullets
you got ten holes in your back
You might get shot and rot
Gut, listen Sonny, get yourself
A shooter, she calm, she see
The dough you gonna get
Not the dough you got
And she a shooter, my friend
She’s not armed at your back
Ready to knock you out
Of thoughts with dangerous boys
Think they got a thot with rot
Mouth, a shooter is smart
And quiet with talk
Deadly with aims
Sunny California fry
Pamela has her eye on pan
Sunny side eggs time smiling
While the sleepy bay lucky dragon years.


This hunter, does he hunt alone?
Brings someone worthy
Pick up the sensation of
Floors, trampling feet
Sandwiched in – let me
Show you where this
Tale begins –
A hunter may hunt alone
But a hunter can he
Trust another man
on the hunt?
If the hunter is being sized up
for poisoned love, to die
Death, Alpo breath
Selfish hunt?
Slick on the
Hunt – Young boy
Learn the ways
When they mix
With the talk –
If a man who claim
To hunt really
Know how to hunt –
He may feed Harlem
with Alabama game
And it’s a death to the hunter way?
When the world, she’s melting away…

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