Warren Falcon Quotes

..she repeats overheard conversations at dirty tables, customers politely pretend not to hear the gossip-large confessions of littler lives pasted Hopper-like to diner windows' glaring reflections without error there where the only self-reflecting going on is the scribbler in the pink booth perversely taking it all in, thinking, feeling, penning it down in notebooks looking for himself in those echoes with your stolen shades on, eternally cool in his capacity to tolerate what you call 'the great densities' - immense absurdities de le quotidian... ...The writer's eye observes, swerves to miss the Mexican kid chasing the ball into Same Old Street, notes it with caffeine amphetamine-laced, and black ink traces the visionary company of love in stubbed cigarettes, sputum maps coughed and spat.
from 'A Gypsy Cab Author Caught In A Texas Milky Way, A Letter Poem To M. Meursault'
Damned good you are inspired then amidst progress's smoking mirror, like Blake, a wake-dreamed jeweler mining away in-breathed while sucking those cigarettes and lovers, the endless hash browns, along Texas highways and byways waiting for another dispatch to Bumf*ck and Divine. The psalmist says it right, no matter the blight: 'Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord.'
from 'A Gypsy Cab Author Caught In A Texas Milky Way, A Letter Poem To M. Meursault'
Childness let's have us honey, flame intended, names smeared on the glass, an accidental pane times hands touching it delicate as trespass, what is allowed lace of vision...
from 'A Poem In Fragments Beginning With A Line From Berryman'
That Golden Calf Incident was a silly mistake, an overreaction, but there were agreements made at the outset, sealed in blood, first born sons threatened or worse, guaranteed real estate for dairy farmers and bee keepers, oodles of milk-and-honey futures, money to be made in hopefully greener pastures. Now it can be said with certainty, a 'promised land' comes with big catches - I've exchanged one for another, same mistake - the barbs are plenty, mostly mistaken people thinner than scripture loudly staking claims to land and deity in long meander.
from 'After Folly - An Aging Poet Addresses One Who Wanders In Mountains Remote'
A penny for a wet tongue. I'm of that hung up crowd forced to flee, a victim of unleavened fate, or is that too Greek a notion? The question begs asking. Unintended impertinence must be forgiven. That's the theme, right? the long march of history, that of redemption in time though each and every has an opinion. Can't be helped. Much to explain. All's a seeming washed in blood.
from 'After Folly - An Aging Poet Addresses One Who Wanders In Mountains Remote'
I regret self pity. I'd reject it if I could but it adheres, last resort of old coots born honestly into it no matter the copious Mercurochrome baths, the smelling salts obviating the needed nipple. The stippled trout I nightly catch, pink insides turned out by blue blade kept beneath the pillow, baits me with the riddle again and again. Something about a stand of trees, a man carving some bark, what breath is for. Today the Market reports a run on Mercurochrome. Birth goes on. I am for rebirth.
from 'Brunch With Nietzsche, A Dazzlement'
Its undertow that matters. The real power's there. Ask the undertow, you'll get answers. Don't say need. The bottom's filled with old cars, tin cans, bad seed. All you'll ever want. Get lucky.
from 'Delusion Of One'
I will listen will recover such air enough around to go on sing my song tio-tangle in tree limbs Van Gogh still somewhere paints to woo in old boots worn leather Weak knees make me to existence/being adore to which I have only just in a dream renewed my wedding vows
from 'Das Lied Von Der Erde [The Song Of The Earth]'
Out of lime and song at 7 a.m. I dress, spin down the steps like then In this morning now thin with Spring. There's green over you now. …Now, heart, Don't you start that singing again
from 'Dinah Washington, All Alone On The Street Of Regret (Circa 1977) '
Belly belly the hard boiled egg. I map out of a dream. Love a long necked boy. Dance lips! Leaves of legion. Jelly, yard dog! Leap to June.
from 'Erotic Lullaby For Bedding, After Theodore Roethke '