Sunday, June 05, 2016


My Name Is Not Susan

Good evening from a dreamy
day, an ethereal evening,

and then, tonight, you ran away
with all of the mercy, all of our

photographs, all of the good,
and, worst of all, you ran from\

that of you who was, well, you.  
Who was you.  (?)  Who are you?

I mean, what I thought I knew
has to be irrelevant, miniscule,

yet you is something that, to 
me, was always clear, or, well, 

only occasionally somewhat
murky.  Whatever the case is,

or is, whatever I knew, I know
now that I did not knew.  The

The new know is irrevocably no,
is irrevocably wrong, and it just

isn't right.  It's paradoxical, and
not the least bit paradisical.  It's

as wrong as a particularly jolly
Santa speaking his ho ho hos

when the vinyl is spinning
backwards, which would 

be counterclockwise, I believe.
With those purported 'satanic'

messages on certain albums 
from the 1970’s.  Yes, I believe 

the incorrect way for a vinyl 
to spin, or the correct way 

to spin it incorrectly, would 
be counterclockwise.  But

then again, it seems
to me that I've 

pretty much always
been wrong about

what’s right.