This first poem is about worshipping in a form we know very well. I don't know for sure but I suspect that when this form of intimacy works out it feels very good.
I Wish To Sit Near
I wish to sit near
So that my tail when wagging
Taps you a little,
So that when your thought begins,
You reach down, scratch in the fur
Between my two ears,
Stroke down my black nose, grabbing
My muzzle, thanking me.
I am often clumsy and ashamed for it. Shame is something I wish I didn't know so well. Back in 66-72 when I lived shamefully I was quite busy running ahead of the wind. I got fairly good at building walls out beyond me so there were people nearby who knew me and were okay with it but a very large world of people, places and things, that not only didn't care about me but if they got wind of my life they had designated persecutors to chase me around. I am not lying. My contribution to all that, among other counter culture things and political things I was a dope dealer. Then they almost caught me. I didn't really care about that, except for the shame of it and the shame that would continue and the suicide I feared would come of it. So I got out of town and came back later to a life that did not include any dope. But I couldn't stand sober either. I became a drunk, got my boundaries around that part much smaller and started living a true double life. So I think shame has a handle on me, me having sacrificed my life for it at least once. How far will I really go to avoid the consequences of shame? Change my whole life.
This poem is of course not about dope dealing or running ahead of the wind or anything like that. It is about being arrogant and the consequences.
Red And White
I got a big stick,
Stirred you up, found someone else
Inhabiting your eyes.
But this is like stirring white
Paint and getting red from it.
So I have this odd
Problem to explain to you.
Why would I do that?