For Steve the undiscovered star
who could’ve been Mick Jagger
in another lifetime my brother perhaps
because despite the torturous poison
there was love.
Maybe if someone adopted him
he’d be cured of rich boy anger,
or in a future lifetime
he’ll somehow recover himself
in a moment of lucidity
out of the deathwish maze
crawling up through the spiraling
to original radiant broken whole.
Steve on Olympus basking
in godly glory like Apollo
dreamboy dish for most women
to swoon and salivate and catfight over
but maybe the rock star life
was the wrong decision
for a wild whiskey horse.
Meteoric rise with inevitable misfortune
Fame is a double course game of disaster
a deeper hell than this poor painterly one
this used persona wish
disguised in anonymous nobody robes.
Hiatus it was the only norm
a leash, a form
that could afford you to stay
on this impossible planet
hide your dangerous shinning away
don’t implode while swerving
with the grocery clerk maiden
rebelling on your wedding day
she throws eyelet daggers at me
while I’m in her line buying wine
and asks me if and how I know you
as a threat I guess
I smile and say yes I know him
I pity your level of dumb fuck
Give me my wine and ID back
you’re crazy if you’re crazy about Steve,
the original Space Cowboy aka Maurice
is a bachelorette’s doomed suicide groom.
you were always already astray
in divine reckless sabotage
you ceremoniously killed yourself
many times in my bedroom
and everyone who befriended you
you chased away to wild glades
with self-flagellating axes.
You certainly destroyed
every bridge of love you ever had
your false riddle was granted
and every truth that descended
wasted away on your unlucky bed.
So now I lift my angel’s eye and envision
rosepetals clear gold light streaming
dreaming true memories free
they bow, light and disappear
returning to the breeze and dharma.
Let’s take a thousand year old break
from being lovers
in brave harm again
but without the miserable longing
I perform the miracle
in a complete cycled circle
sealed in rose bursting gold.
I know it’s hard
when the door closes
like an imagined fist
your gangster wakes turned on
wants to dance a Russian roulette
like a dimond devil gambler
but it’s most wise to resist.
May kindness find you new chances.