2009 E-Book Poetry

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Last Words Out

Bridge to Love

February Nights

Luminous

Hello

Maybe You’ll Shine

Six O’clock Whistle

Fuck

The Archeology of Sound

Candles and Cognac

Would You Say You’re in Love

Between Christmas and Thanksgiving

New Hard Times

Come Over You

No More Words

Tiny Pricks

Birthday in the Sun

It’s Just a Kiss Away

Kissing Your Neck

Corduroy, Fleece and Flannel

Who Do Voodoo on You

A Prescribed Ego

Lemons and Limes

Women and Wine

No More Bones for You

the Power of a Daydream

Undecided

a Graveyard Gives

Beside the River

Everyday Americans

Wish You No Harm

Wooden Floors

Ride Away

Rain

Two Wastes of Life

In Bed at Cheteau Marmont

Jim Sheridan Took My Shirt

Perfect July Nite in L.A.

Independent Lens

Ah, Saturdays

Where It All Begins

If It’s One to Ten She’s a Twelve

and That’s Why She’s Always

Mad-Dogged

Tonight

Rock & Roll Music

Man and Twelve String Guitar Make History

Friday at 3:00 a.m.

The Way My Sisters’ Children Used to Play

Front Porch

The Devil’s Music

Young Love

Sunny Sunshine

Norms, Values and People Who Think They Have the Right to Tell You What to Do

Illuminations

Escort Economy

Pink Red Dress

Behind the Waterfall

Swoon

The Ledger

Expanding Universe

Supportive Hope

Johnny English and the Aliens

Christmas Barrette

Max's Kansas City

one pay check away

be my everyday

Take the Change

i don't even know her name

be myself

Black Magik Blood

Vegas

Morning Sun

Wolf Hollow Inn

Impact

Poetry 101: Ecstatic Vision

D.C. Blues

Dear Pittsburgh Penguins

a Hot Mess

Yeah You

 

Tiny Pricks

On the side of a mountain
I ate a bur.
It was well into morn and
I was on some kind of trip
But nothing was a blur
Though I admit I was ripped.

I licked my sweater that I lent-
to a friend but they didn't stick

Now lookin' back on that day -
man, I gotta say, I know I've
met many more people that
just had it in them to be pricks &
More than that bur in my mouth

Some of 'em you're drinking stout
with and, yeah, they're real dicks
And some 're moody uncool chicks

But I swear it's all just the same ...
I just can't help but to get so bored
I put up with 'em just long enough
until I can clean off my black slate
' keep walkin' through those doors
where I make it passed them gates
that'a I 'seen but never been before

Just like the morning on the mountain
lookin' down at the church and steeple
and all the ghost like little tiny people

Just like the morning on the mountain
lookin' down at the church and steeple
and all the ghost like little tiny people

Just like the morning on the mountain
lookin' down at the church and steeple
and all the ghost like little tiny people

(Some people just enjoy being tiny pricks)

    

   mystrawhat-2009