Potential
by Jake White

December 1st 1999

Ate Moss,

Sat, Green in the lakes.

Naked in my beginnings,

Had Potential.

Like all things.

- The stink in the rug...
- The pain in one's foot
- The size of a little girl's grin

All could be bigger, more painful,

Make rotten smells that are feverish laughter.

Instead,

Got Fat, Escaped, Fucked violently with nameless humans

Who were all just the world.

Made Love, Found None, Drank Whiskey, Drank Wine.

All for a quarter, balanced on my nose

and I crashed down a staircase

and banged my teeth out with a wrench.

Got tough, Got Mysterious, Got Laid, Got Stuff.

Caught one in my peripheral, screaming with joy

Like they always do, Like they always do.

She was tall with the Glimmer, of the Big Invite Parade.

Had boys sapping the blood from her fingernails.

Whispered the Potential of the MishMash Disease.

A Nymph, Drowning in Honey, Red Flowers and LSD

A Shark, Ripping Flesh from all sides

Dripping on everyone like Chrome,

Enveloped again by the sunny wash

of our kind

Fuck That.

You think my Brains aren't sore?

That the encouraging words found in some sorry notion of my

sainted wisdom could help?

That the middle of the road Bodhisattva is unsavory in the midst

of the lightning coloured elevator?

We had Potential God Dammit.

Jake White is almost there. so close, watch him.