Poems I wrote a while ago.
I feel like I write decent stuff on jets.
I don't know the truth,
so I can't tell it.
Reflections of beauty slide aimlessly;
trees hold forth.
Omaha dreams and bad steps taken
go for gold.
It wasn't her--somebody else--who
dashed the hopes we never had.
The ring signified past ownership
of sailors unreturned.
He knew the truth, and
told it in absence.
Heartrush dreams of brutality--
open landscape--you can fly, if you want--
incorporated steps of mind--of hate--
and the atmospherics of evil--at least somebody cares--
in you, my friend, I find no blame.
(the german odalisque)
Her face pretty, vaguely confused--
she close to the center of it all--
figurations of senescence--
dreamscapes of totality--
leadership in the twinkle of an eye.
Late days of fervid plans--
der Reichsfuhrer, dreams never good
world in his image--
a generation of narcissism--
A new history of the devil--
never a moment missed--
he stood there, taken away wllingly--
soon, burst fleshflakes in air.
Good natures gone bad--
"I never liked them"--
never knew 'em--
The commonplaces, the religiosity,
the chatter on grandkids--
the ignorant passivity thoughtlessly
"They got what they deserved."
On the front, fear--
brotherhood for fatherland--
blue eyes stare into blue eyes--
walk away, slowly.
(child at play)
History written by the winners--
youngboy eating bread and butter--
kicking the ball--Prussian futures--
at expense of others--
Nativity scenes again--
the final chapter--
the Russians--hordes, rapes--
not forgotten but forgot.