UNDER MY FEET

i walk barefoot
over broken
lives
whenever possible
in back-alley
warrens
of sewage
and hope
hoping
that my scars
will open up again
stigmata
that say
save me
and that let
the rotten core of the world
mix
with my precious bodily fluids
in a vain effort
to tear down
the integumentary barriers
that condemn us all
to be
alone.


About Leeroy Berlin:
Leeroy Berlin lives on speck of coral and jungle in the middle of the Pacific where he writes poetry when the lizards keep him awake all night.

MISS HOLIDAY GOLIGHTLY HAS NOT AGED WELL

white haired in a red hat
like the stains in the carpet
holding a ball of shaking orange fur
with the ghost of a Brazilian tan
turned sunspots and carcinomas
haunting her arms
that bend in the wrong places
peering through cracked blinds
at strangers fifty years younger
and old mr hayes next door
works in his garden for as long as he's able
afraid that one day he won't
she can wear diamonds now
she doesn't
they're locked in the safe in the back of the house
on Maple two blocks north of Wilshire
a forgotten grande dame on the parallels
winding into the hills
where she waits in the midst of things
now that she's found the place where they belong


About Leeroy Berlin:
Leeroy Berlin was last seen escaping from a cul-de-sac somewhere in the bowels of Suburbia, Los Angeles CA. He is rumored to have been seen on several isolated Pacific islands, though these reports may not be trustworthy and often contradict each other placing him simultaneously in indistinguishable locations thousands of familiar miles apart.