For the love of Enzo.

(one).
The world decided to start something with me;
golden pages,silver pen,priceless mind mine.
Fecund imagination,all on the line.
Yes,you're right,that's me-and you are the young king.

No one comes close.Oh yeah,I'm bragging.
I'm telling the truth-scary,scary thing-the truth.
The Peter North of all that is great with poetry.
Yeah,heavy-gun alright...and I know how to strut.

So many poems to fill each loving day.
The ideas flow and shine so freely.
I ejaculate quality and quantity.
I dream of things you cannot articulate.

Get out your pit and write me an opus,
a villanelle or interlocking rubaiyat.
I welcome odes,pantomes,haikus,or any sonnet.
All before I even take a piss.

(two).
Pretentious fucks,negritude,dada-douche bags,
surrealist beat-offs,flakes,fakes and fags.
So long-in-the-tooth.
Better yet,
dead.
Tell the truth.
I am so full of myself,I spill .
Just like I fill you up and spill you.
I am only a poet.
I am the only poet.
You keep coming to me.
As I keep coming on you.
This is the best place for you to be.
This is the best poetry for you to read.
Can you read?Do you read?Maybe.
Disagree?
Then prove me wrong and leave.
I have come so far ,
and you are so proud of me.

(three).
So who are these poems for?My art.
For you who rightfully adores.
But not for:
Penniless Africans
Humbled Christians
Lonely Shut-Ins
Directionless Muslims
Oiled-up Hunks
Buddhist Monks
Homeless Jerks
Suit-and-Tie Perks
The Morbidly Obese
Forgotten Elderly
Socially Inept
Hopelessly Eccentric
And those countless cripples that crap-
in those stinking see-through sacks.

We are bigger than all those marginal groups.
Are you bigger than HIM...huh?
Let me tell you something,
HE is bigger than you.
Anything with eyes can spot moving talent,
save yourself,own up and relent.
You have got tunnel vision,
and no filler.
All of MY poems are trained killers.

(four).
I am more than a legend.
Because I will never be a legend.
You are no better than this legend.
Because you and I both exist.
I am alive,no mix up with myth.
Just as it always seems,
brimming with virility.
I make it mean something,
I willed myself to be pulsing.
Kissing the asses of everything and anything.
Any fiend.
Best place for you to be,for real.
Best poetry for you to read?
Disagree?
Prove me wrong and leave.
I have come so far and you are proud of me.

(five).
Dear EARTH:this star is fell to ground.
Heavenly body touched down.
Keep your rotten box
and your body throwing fits.
This is student-master stuff,so sit.
Let's get right down to business,
and check the other planets' perspectives.

MARS-he rages and he rages but keeps turning my pages.
URANUS-the sky may have a new ozone hole,blame this poem.
VENUS-back to all your godly foam,leave the meddlars alone.
NEPTUNE-stifle your emotion,horse god,I am the thirsty ocean.
JUPITER-bolts of night-lightning illuminate this verse.
PLUTO-pretends he and Persephone don't read me...please.
SATURN-his time is through.No more planets...phew...wait...
MERCURY-messenger slack-jawed but flying true.

All these stars,and many more:

Written up there in the mother sky;
All lined up in divine awe,
waiting in the birth canal for your legend,
only the floating dagger has the power to deny.