IKR ?

in my dream last night

i met Ellen and Portia

at some event slash

gala slash party.

there was a pool and hors d'oeuvres
and we all wore suits

and we were hitting 

it off !  i mean, rappin bout

GMOs, being

vegan paleo,

like, Monsanto -- all that shit.

then Portia told me

that I have great hair

(kind of true) and I said, "oh,
I use [Shampoo X]"

and then Ellen says,
"what ?  you know that [Shampoo X]
is made of bison

spinal fluid, right ?"
or some crazy shit like that.
the needle falls off

the record.  SHIT STOPS.
Ellen puts her drink down and
goes, "you make me sick."

and i'm all tryin
to play it cool and say, "yeah
but look at my hair."

when it was just you and me

you bit my ankles,
i'd lock you out in the rain.
remember those days ?

have i told you lately ?

stepping out of a

taxi cab, from synthetic

frosty air into

thick humidity --

rich, oppressive, abusive -- 

I love you, New York.

dogs have a different god

bugs hang in the mist

spider webs heave with the breeze

and the light shines green;

we are in her church

walking down the aisle, crushing

gravel with our feet

he sleeps on my Zeppelin shirt

watch him curl his tail

and then watch someone tickle

only the black keys

all sharps, all pointy

my chain-link boy, my shadow

stay here a bit more.

summertime nap

her sweat has congealed
into the most delicious
aspic -- sweet, salty,

somehow buttery --
matting her straight hair into
wheaten finger waves

the truth about marriage

we may not be a
pair of great philosophers
but that don't stop us

from rehashing and
debating our fights like they're
Wittgenstein's poker.