Poems, spring


It started to be warmer, green here, there,
hippies, snobs, gigolos, virgins in minis everywhere,
reading my poems they have all amused
themselves to death, guessing who my muse
could be. Johnnie was reading them on a horse,
laughing, forgetting about illness, alcohol, whores,
Julie was reading in a superb ambiance,
thinking: It’s much better for lesbians,
they can have a muse or be muses themselves,
poetical Viagra for priests, the Prince of Wales,
kids are reading them in toilets at school,
saying “ That ‘ blue eyes stuff’s so cool”,
spring is waiting at the winter’s doormats,
love has parked its cars everywhere, let’s
just watch the fish, they’re smiling at us,
spring is late, has missed the plane, came by bus.
Everything’s O.K., the sun over the trees, we’re O.K.

Bluebirds singing morning ballads for K.