And my most favorite of all...

On Lighting a Cigar

we ask for no mercy and no
miracles,
(If only there were fewer flies around
as we pondered our imbecilities and losses!)

I light a cigar, lean back
remember
dead friends dead days dead loves;
so much has gone by for most of us,
even the young, especially the young
for they have lost the beginning and have
the rest of the way to go
but isn't it strange, all I can think of now are
cucumbers, oranges, junkyards, the
old Lincoln Heights jail and
the lost loves that went so hard
and almost brought us to the edge,
the faces now without features,
the love beds forgotten.

the mind is kind: it retains the
important things:
cucumbers
oranges
junkyards
jails.

I have killed a fly
that tiny piece of life
dead like dead love.

there used to be over 100 of us in that big room
in that jail
I was in there many
times.
you slept on the floor
men stepped on your face on the way to piss.
Always a shortage of cigarettes.
names called out during the night
(the few lucky ones were bailed out)
never you.

we ask for no mercy or miracles
and we ask for none
now;
we paid our way, laugh if you will,
we walked to only paths there were to walk.
and when love came to us twice
and lied to us twice
we decided to never love again
that was fair.
fair to us
fair to love itself.

we ask for no mercy or no
miracles;
we are strong enough to live
and to die and to
kill flies,

attend the boxing matches, go to the racetrack,
live on luck and skill,
get alone, and get alone often,
and if you can't sleep alone
be careful of the words you speak in your sleep;
and
ask for no mercy
no miracles;
and don't forget:

time is meant to be wasted,
love fails
and death is useless.