.	a love poem              (for d.a.) as these lines go down a friend (the word fails) dies a little faster last night gathered there his place a few of us unable to tell him what is done during the waiting hours between talking getting nowhere nowhere as he died a lot last night my hand filled with words that my mouth lost him starving one less painting as we fitted it into the back seat him talking all day night day this evening still wide eyed talking paranoia love face body strangling on broken way and us me one of the closest even less able now the ivy blows in the wind across the city pacing talking to himself a friend with brush and pen listens to the same wind and the notes we play together - Kent Taylor6/5/66 appeared in ukanhavyrfuckincitibak