Being Kissed On The Back Of The

I Was Only Sitting Here In My White Study With The Awful Black Words Pushing Me Around.

Our Checks Are Pale. Our Wallets Are Invalids. Past Due, Past Due, Is What Our Bills Are Saying And Yet We Kiss In Every Corner, Scuffing The Dust And The Cat. Love Rises Like Bread As We Go Bust.

Take Adultery Or Theft. Merely Sins. It Is Evil Who Dines On The Soul, Stretching Out Its Long Bone Tongue. It Is Evil Who Tweezers My Heart, Picking Out Its Atomic Worms.

In An Old Time There Was A King As Wise As A Dictionary.

I Tell It Stories Now And Then And Feed It Images Like Honey. I Will Not Speculate Today With Poems That Think They're Money.