Cin Sweet

Like the lonely winter tree
Outstretched branches with never any leaves
Lonely skeletons, with lonely smiles
They look away while trying to hide
...

I'll remember you,
Every time I see the green,
That paints our rolling hills,
When the weather turns to Spring,
...

When the sun bleeds
On and through the window panes
Indiscriminately so
Him tasting of my sour skin
...

This is it,50th and C Streets
Damn school's crumbling down
Right down around our knees
See them apartments, them over there
...

depression wilts me
fear binds me
i sag, shrinking, sinking iron heavy
i'm five-'o-clock stockings
...

You, doe eyed, those lashes
Hand grabbing them up
Like a miner's gold dust
Scratched up little red car
...

Will I?
I dunno, I might like you enough
in Chicago
enough to go to bed with you
...

I sat counting up all the blackeyes
i'd ever got
All the broken bones bloody noses
from all the battles i'd ever fought
...

everyone 'round here
so slow, barbaric
they know what they know
anything else, they say
...

Seventeen, a beauty queen
What was it like in your dreams?
When you stared up at the stars
What did you wish for?
...

Happy now this Higgins
with his natural bristle head
zoom brooms for legs
lunch-gut in his belly pantry
...

Mcintosh is an apple-
and my obscure neighbor # 11
He of tall slim wondering shy
wrinkled stormy clothes
...

Oh the little lions
come time for play or chow,
or just checking in
When you call
...

Not by a minute of latitude, nor
In any accurate assessment, you
Of that most noble and venerable variety
The old "Silvered Lion Poet" of lore
...

Get the fox, chase the fox
Her running to the rainbow valley
Fur and flam and imagery, pity
Indifference never lived inside her trembling
...

Scars on veined thin skin
We plum forget we earnt
From knives and stoking fires
Scalpels edged in shining sharp
...

Rest easy my sweet old Lassie girl,
For I'm holding you tight now,
Lying right here beside you,
And know that I love you so very much,
...

I love the way he runs and walks
I do love the way he howls and he talks
But the thing I love most of all
That way he looks at me
...

there stretches it, malevolent scratch
so broad, too deep where none can see
same anywhere my eyes have seen
any place I sought to be
...

Mr. Bowman sits reading the morning news
He's ignoring Mrs. Bowman though she's screaming
She's being chased by an angry mob of honey bees
But all Mr. Bowman does is nibble on his Hobnobs,
...