On the lamb I threw up on the train. Find me sometimes bringing a horse to water.

Mothers serve the white stars

A barge spilling sunflowers. Sweep up my old signatures.

I dance a dance in outer space and laugh. I throw out the first pitch at tomorrow’s Mets game. Aluminum foil.

Poached pears are singing and yesterday they were singing and the pomade in your pompadour paused to let a gopher fly by. He’s gone gone.

Like the moon is full of toilet water.

I take the escalator to the pharmacist’s. Egyptian boat for the afterlife. Uncle. Used cars for sale

Lined up, hurled at the laundromat.

I hear a vibraphone. It’s May. Say good-bye to cars in the left lane.

The cows are gone. Opening the door to the super’s apartment

I let out a breeze from Lebanon. Lebanese breeze. The storm came later and his convulsions

Shook down a lemon tree. Disney World golf course.

I am the bursar. But I haven’t got a penny for beer money. My pockets blew out. At another time, I was quite a dish. An oval mirror. A mirror above the entire fireplace.

& I’m tired of hearing about his broken down Cuban accent.