Selected excerpts from:
SUBWAY
STOPS
Collected
Poems of Abnorman
I DON'T GO TO NO GYM
My idea of lifting weights is
goin' around pickin' up
bad habits. I'm so pumped up
I'm wanted in
7 states.
IN MY ROOM
Boots on the ceiling,
there's someone upstairs.
I know.
I listen from my bed
and
jackoff in the dark
with the shadows there.
Anticipatin, I'm salivantin
over manhood
from an unknown place.
I bet his face is hot
and I bet he's got
promises and everything.
Boots on the ceiling, heart in my hand.
I think I fell
in love last night
while I stretched out in bed
and pressed my lips against
that noise inside my head.
Someone's there,
I know.
It's what I think,
I hope.
FOLS-O-M
Go west, young man,
get down on your knees
out south of market
down on Folsom Street.
Go west young man,
go get high.
One trip will make
you citified.
Be certified citified
get plugged up tight,
just fuck-suck-fuck
all fuckin' night.
No stop signs down here,
just concrete things.
Could be you out here
on Folsom Street.
ROLL MODEL
There is just (almost) too
much puberty in that
pair of pants over there.
I'm (almost) havin' trouble talkin'.
He is grown up in places
that coming-of-age never went.
So I'll try to button
my jeans and button my lip.
Let me at him, adolescence.
That teenage-boy is mine.
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