Love is a Fog

Love is a fog that burns with the 1st daylight of reality~
Charles Bukowski

Sonoma- New Apartment 2008

Yeah, I agree with bukowski..Love IS a fog.
A fog that slips out of your tiny fingers, without gloves.
Condensation on the windshield as you 1st get into your car, I said.
When you try and wipe it, it cries.
And slips whispering ,cutting a hole in the fog.
It never really all burns off. Even though it might be 90º in the shade.
The next morning, it's there again.
Against all hope. Smoking in your dreams.
Lying light past the moonlight.
That's when love can whisper into your ear. Love.
Love wants to borrow a 20. It'll give it back in the morning.
Love wants to borrow the keys to your car.
The sun over the mountains wakes up upon a grey love.
Did you ever notice how some people spell "grey" and the others "gray"?
Wonder what the hell that means…
Youre driving to work under the fog that is love.
Through the mountains and rolling hills, with the 40 mph turn signs.
The fog of love is rolling slow overhead, like molasses.
Roadkill love. You dodge it coming around a turn.
The sky's swirling now, fog's got a tangible touch.
It looks like it's going to fucking storm like hell,
But it'll all burn off by 10.
Then all you can see is the bright blue sky. Not even a cloud.
Says something about love, now doesn't it?
The brazen fog returns around 6 or 7. Crawling like a slug .
Over the very selfsame mountains that I just talked about.
It looks like smoke.
It looks like a brush fire.
It looks like the whole world's on fire.
Come 5 the garbagemen come to cut through love.
To pick up the trash.
The trash of love.
Love's not even really awake yet. Hasn't had it's morning cuppa coffee.
But love's got a job to do. A job to go to.
Silently leaving the house without a key in the lock.
You can hear a dog barking somewhere in the distance.
Probably at love. Love in the distance. It love's the distance,
Sometimes.
Finger of love pokes you in your ear when the alarm goes off.
Your torn shirt repels it's advances.
It's easy to do when love doesn't have you yet.
Love's not sure what to do when you are solo,
It only knows that you long for it.
S
o love's gotcha.
Right now. right now, as I type this, love's circling
Waiting for a way to get in.
I have a fan on to repel it, at least for now. that is,
Until I shoot sullenly into the morning fog.
Where love lies. And lies.

You tell love you'll call
As you shuffle it out the door.
You hear love's car pull away,
And you laugh. For a moment.
Just for a moment.
Knowing you're one up on love.

2940.5 miles

next to the river

Warm pain, razor radiated light.
Beautiful sadness in the way
The black-haired beauty looked at me

Running barely from conversation
Caught on a hook, cut out of the mouth.

Well corrected wind, cycle by iron gates
Shelled with lunacy, bathed in blue fear.

There was,
A moment when it was
Caught-

A fool smells the dirt

ten shells i sent to you
Ten shells I sent to you
I pierced them from the sullen stream
That ran in back of my house
When I was a boy~



The pennies on the train tracks
The hiding behind a tree~ so we don't get nailed
Duck motherfucker, 

I can hear, my ears to the steel.



I can see the oil next to the tracks; 

I thought I was a millionaire
16yrs old and high
The girls waiting for me at the garage tomorrow.



Tell me why
I have been tired and fooled,
I imagine things that make me a loving tool, as I elate.

 Laded and in a state.



The passes into the memory
Tell me what is due to you and me,
I should have known time before
That my white stone made my feel slide.

I woke up @ 5am
I'd had a dream that the train was coming in

Looking at the sky.



Wake up and hear the morning
Take loose and throw the moorings


Float down and let the river take you where it wants it.

Fuck heavily and live heavy
Blow back the smoke that hits your eyes

The cellar's nice and cold.


I can sleep there when I decide to stop.