I've Lived Enough

Looking forward . . .
Looking backward over an icicle past . . .
I thought that I had seen enough
of carousel butchers and darken closet clutters
Whose smiling synthetic lies are sweet as
Polish butter.

Looking upward . . .
Looking downward through levels of smudge . . .
I thought that I had felt enough
of infantile lovers and cheap satin covers
That lay exposed to a vulter's eyes
Whose thoughts are as vile as
A root cellar's teenage secrets.

Looking outward . . .
Looking inward . . .
I thought that I had accomplished a mile or so
of work and had been enough
of many liar's quicksilver passions who con
And run when the heat of truth are as
Clear as a baby's soul.

Lying down . . .
Standing up . ..
I know that I have lived the end of a destined ride
with embroidered idols with flimsy simplicity
Whose daggers are as full of hypocricy
As a tyrant in Hades sees his reign.

Walking swiftly . . .
Walking slowly . . .
I felt that I had lived enough for those of
sweating beds and moaning heads
Who dig deeply into Rabbi's coffers
That sit alone sings a silken tone
As moon and stars in lover's eyes.