Douglas Penn

Douglas Penn is a recovering art historian, currently renting out his cave to an oversized CD collection. When not compiling song lyric collages he works as a reporting specialist for a program controls team. If only Kathy Acker could bend him over her knee and pierce him, then he would be utterly happy. He can be reached at douglas.penn@worldnet.att.net.

# 34 views of San Diego

Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows

only came outside to watch the nightfall with the rain

Thought he'd cast his own shadow by the backstage door

And leave now Before the sun rises.

Those nebulous codes and disiplines

Sticking in that new born throat.

The little ones leap & shout & laugh-

you don't even know my real name

the kind you find in a second-hand store

I’ve got some real estate there

, in my bag-

I am the statue of liberty one-inch long

I've got three passports, a couple of visas,

whores in my head, whores at my door, whores in my bed.

The other night I dreamt I was continental driftified

Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television

North Korea, South Korea, and Marilyn Monroe

Windshield wipers slapping time,

He's crawling on the trail, lying on the trail

His legs are giving out giving up, He knows time. he sees it,

a broom is drearily sweeping up the broken pieces of yesterday's life

while unsealed on a porch, a letter sits,

so here I am at my most hungry.

it's a delicate line, to the beginning of what's yet to come

I was drowned, I was washed up and left for dead

I fell down to my feet In a town without a name,

in a heavy down pour, a strange generation of Friday evenings,

Sundays in the afternoon yielding to the right-of-ways,

stopping at the 4-way signs Up to Lexington, One Two Five

I frowned at the crumbs of a crust of bread

One more warning, One more warning sound

One more chance to do it all wrong.

Lightning crashes, a new mother cries-

ah,... Who do you love???

Douglas Penn