Hurt

I saw your picture of the old man dying on the train
I saw a middle-aged victim of stabbing violence again
outside the bar window in Uptown over a gram toot
of killer blow and a dark glass of stout and loud rock
I saw ice form over the face of dead junky in the park
I walked every street of Manhattan with one eye open
while the other slept off a needle exchange and bought
lots of expensive new clothes up top before walking back
I never thought about the novel I meant to remember
even though it sat tight in my back pocket on hard boots
I waited too long for a cab and felt the wind waver over
Brooklyn Bridge while the river sounded like a hole
in the ocean and the city swizzled backward into cold
my sweetest friends stayed in the burned out buildings
and my plane was delayed long enough for one phone call
I didn't have the nerve to let you know about my plans
to disappear in spite of my inability to extract myself
and without conscience sever every tie I knotted long ago
threadbare and textile bundles behind a pipestone tomb
fetal cliff mummies a warm and osteolytic breath from
the farthest star cackling back infinite bad paintings
created in earnest with total lack of technical capability
but full of the fullest colors of fall and compulsive creation
I ran from a nightmare and lied to the slighted dealer
I hugged a pervert on the Spanish lawn near a fountain
I gave away my freebase gear to the hotel receptionist
I left the last time and laughed nervously the whole flight
I realized trying not to start lines with myself and I
was getting us both nowhere and I could not articulate
so I decided to just start lines with whatever I felt like