RAILROAD POETRY

Boing

2012-01-31T09:44:00.000-05:00

Of all the goose down things to do
Loading your sweater full of lint balls
White on black
To create the illusion of a galaxy
Is probably the most underrated

To carry a cow overhead
Practice with a calf
Everyday
From the time you are small
Eat grains and feed the cow lawn

Before joining the Papal Circus
We would draw pictures on toilet paper
And swallow them
Once we could make out the complete drawing
We were ready
We stopped questioning faith
And started believing in sleep apnea

Down the river from the bacon camp
There was a bug juice band
That used to play the theme to Andy Griffith
Then they all just holed up
And dried into a flaky batch of Matlock

Long about the time the flea market went all barter
There were residents complaining that the whole world was becoming California
Little did they know
Shandong was hot on their trail
Now we all speak Shriveled Atlas
--
1.31.12

SUBTEXT

2012-01-30T09:42:00.000-05:00

to say I don't know
Or to blatantly lie
Is to answer you wholeheartedly
And pay you your due respect

To blanket the windows
And add scratches to the surface
Only enhances the span of the sun;
The way it spreads in small chips across your eye

Then, when I blanket the sun
And shade your day
With hushed chorus
You remember all names at once

Before we add too much weight
To anything I can actually do
Or did or didn't
You should know about gaps in the base paint, creaks in the stairs

In the only way we know
We touch ourselves and others
Symbolizing all the important steps
Exploration, enlightenment, assuredness, decay

After falling off a jungle gym
And hitting your head
You will be blessed with stigmata
No one will ever be able to forge

In this growth spurt
You relay an important message
Namely, soup and crackers
Pinks, blues and purples

Let's make this about you
--
1.30.12

Siting at Attention

2012-01-27T09:14:00.000-05:00

A baby crying
More obtrusive than a cell phone ring
Or mild conversation
But somehow better to hear
In the morning
When all the conversations are old
All the ringtones have been heard
And the voice of a child
Like a snowflake
Pierces the air
Forcing it's way
Into the general malaise
--
1.27.12

Popliteal Fossa

2012-01-26T09:18:00.000-05:00

In that most spidery of cauldrons
Where hinge meets ram
Rashy as a kid
Now a skin tag sits

A fly in the corner
A meal forgotten
I've seen others cocoon
With no butterflies ever
Except perhaps a death head
Inked in for fun

Doesn't scare the neighbors
They've seen worse
Life's Too Short
They say
But I'm never quite sure I believe them
When they say at least we've got health
I can't speak for them

I can't even grease my own pins
Or stretch my suspension frame
Some sweaty pinch
At the top of a wooly ridge
A crease in an otherwise perfect extension

Call for you on line 1
Run
Let the juice flow
Down down down
Feed the flower beds
Repurpose the pads
Sand stuck on paper
Blocks of cheese
Collection of minerals
--
1.26.12

Six and Fifty

2012-01-25T09:18:00.000-05:00

Six is the footage
A measure of men

Though few will argue
At five foot six
Pernell "Sweet Pea" Whitaker
Would rough you up nice

Still, when looking at boots
The question always arises

What does it feel like
To be tall with a small umbrella?

At center point
We are all unsteady
In one direction
Maybe more

When giving directions
To say Jack Dempsey or
Jack Johnson

You should squint appropriately
For the sun is surely blinding
When looking straight up

Unless it's raining
Take cover
--
1.25.12

Pleasantville

2012-01-10T09:46:00.000-05:00

There is sitting on a roof
And there is sitting on a roof

When all you can do
All you can stand
Is to squeeze your body
Through a small window
Even half way
Enough to scream
But with some prying
And wriggling
You can be sitting
On the roof
At three a.m.
In your undies
With the temperature near twenty-five
And the cool rush
Is just enough
To make you feel like a bird
On a perch
On top of your nest
In the center of your world
And the veiny branches
Sharing water with that world
And that greedy atmosphere
Just sucking it up
And a balance is struck
Between what is the life blood of all organisms
And the infrastructure that moves it all along
And you can look at that
And want to destroy that
And beat it to a wet pulp
A soggy messy pulp
Just to show
That it has no meaning
When this is what sitting on the roof means

There is sitting on the roof
And there is sitting on the roof
--
1.10.12

Omitted

2012-01-09T09:48:00.001-05:00

Not to use the term lightly
But when a word is stricken,
extracted and pulled
Worse to be struck
But not by much
Bad dog gets it when it can
Or bad luck, and just filled with ticks since who knows when
Maybe filled with half-lessons and half-truths
Worse to think of this thing alone
Perhaps in a pack
Like so many cigarettes
standing at attention
Maybe flipping one over
Tails side up
And calling him
Lucky
Giving stern directions
To follow suit
Everytime
without fail
These are instructions to obey
In a partnership or litter
crew or den
Captain's log sounds fair
but only tells one side
It's still a story
and can(not) be changed, scratched, translated
interpreted
Set up
For all indents and paragraphs
With tail tucked
Two dogs on a wharf
Lovers
--
1.9.12

Taken apart

2012-01-06T09:50:00.001-05:00

Taken apart
In such small pieces
This shallow earth
Is dust on the surface of a lens
It's pragmatic

Shoved together
It's dynamic
And gigantic

All the roads kicked up at once
By the hooves of great beasts
And never slowing
But stopping all at once
To smell the last flower
Before rusting shut
The hinges of a great door

Without purpose
Devoid of meaning
A sorry state
If put back together
--
1.6.12

Portrait of Girls in Trains

2012-01-05T14:07:00.001-05:00

Two racing trains
Says one
If you step back
Away from the window
I can see clear through
To the tree-lined horizon
Same goes for you
Says two

But mine is the sunny side
Says one
While that sounds like an added value
Says two
My view has no glare
With open eyes I can stare
Into the center of every passing town

But the coastline
The edge
It is so impressive to see
From a moving car
Says one
And with her hand she gestures:
Please move from view

Centering her body in front of the glass
And puffing out her arms
And smiling contentedly
Number two
Traces the shape of a frame
With her pointer finger
And never moves again
--
1.5.12

Best Wurst

2012-01-04T09:16:00.001-05:00

Worse to dream of the soft pink folds of delicate flowers or the glistening pink gums of a yawning, gasping, man-eating shark?

Let me rephrase:

Worse to dream of falling off a cliff or a tiny pearl?

Let me continue...

Somehow the best things on earth are limitless and off limits
Somehow the best things we can imagine have already happened, but not like that
Somehow there is a food that is so incredibly tasty, it instantly kills you the moment after you savor the most unworldly taste you will ever know
Somehow none of that will make sense to a novice
Somehow we are all novices walking around other people's pets
Somehow we are all just trying not to step in excrement
Somehow all the excrement ever sent through a pipe is never seen again by the expeller
Somehow we will walk miles in each other's shoes and remain novices
Somehow novice reminds me of niche
Somehow we rarely find our niche until we are trying to unwedge ourselves
Somehow this has gone too far

Is it worse to dream of a seafaring maiden or a sinking ship?

Let me explain.

Is it perhaps worse to remember a taste so vividly that it strangles you or to have cake that has eaten itself too?
--
1.4.12

Already Losing

2012-01-03T09:49:00.001-05:00

Not battling real giants
Watery towers and broccoli trees
Things will take longer to get started
Then be done faster and forgotten easier
Easter will come fast and
before cupped hands can catch rain
There will be lemonade
and jam
And four hundred ants to a branch

Those lost platforms
Unused areas of undermass
Ex-presidents will get finicky
about the renaming of things
And collars will be taut against tendons in neck
and extra skin will flop over
And sweat will linger
on cameras and cards
highly defined and glistening
Those dentures will come out at night
but not on nights where the losing
is so painful
it makes your gums throb
and you wake up several times
To pee
To get a glass of water
To ponder all god's orphans
Dramamine and Xanax
Perhaps a walk with the dog
Nothing helps
--
1.3.12

snail mail lady

2011-12-30T08:51:00.001-05:00

Snail mail lady
Forgot the name for: Post Office
Went walking around like a headless horseman
Without a horse
And going to see a man about a horse
She wore a pad
And found herself
Wet with excitement
Although no time to change
She decided it was the only thing
She could count
Without her fingers
Deep in dough
Stamping a crust
Or poking a pointer
through a pie hole
That wasn't hers
Solemnly stating
That in addition
There is also subtraction
From some pile
Some braided connection of cable
Some stringy liquid mess
Some scarf of paper
Some shower of strands
Connecting her personage
By way of forgotten snap
Or zip
Or extension of self address
Wrapping her head around her head
--
12.30.11

Doing the Worm

2011-12-23T08:10:00.001-05:00

Leathery Long Island ladies riding trains or saddled tyrannosaurus'
Or giving each other furniture
Or changing their own spare tires
Or having their nails done in deep burgundy

Not doing the worm anymore
But living in a story
About wedding days and whatever it needs to be

To make a story warm
We mostly live like this
Talking about divorce and how smart doctors are
And how they can't turn on the stove
And taking care of adult boys
And sometimes marrying them

Carrying them into narrow basements
To fix furnaces and move sofas
Later that day we'll drink more coffee
And braid friendship leashes
--
12.23.11

In the War That Loses All Its Colors and Feathers

2011-12-22T10:56:00.000-05:00

As we turn the corner
and head toward the tunnel

I see her
all four thousand billion trillion tons of her

Spread canary
on an ever so slight 0.06 degree angle
Toward the horizon
the one over there
past the horizon
we see with our garbage gorilla eyes

She is stunning
everyone gets it
with a long stick
and little prongs and sprockets
tiny sparks harnessed and released
via cable and split ends

She carries you on her back, too
so don't act surprised
you rode chariot
you bled marigold
in the lobby of the Marriott
and said it wasn't hiphop
it was invisible horse hair

Her variables are gold and nutmeg
bring that gift when you come
In satchel or padlocked malady
Splay it out
Like the Vlasic stork
with scratched glasses
and an awkward toothless grin
that says, Trust Me
I Have Daughters Just About Your Age
she is careless
She couldn't care less
--
12.22.11

All the World's a Sage with Areas of Azure

2011-12-21T09:18:00.000-05:00

Style is not subjective
Not really
It is based on composition
And can always be right or wrong
Based on the aesthetics of the day

Who decides the aesthetics of the day
is based on complex social dynamics
But it's not you
--
12.21.11

Sometimes

2011-12-20T09:19:00.000-05:00

Because a hair stands up
Having the same cells
As skin
Akin to trees and floorboards
Creaking in tune

Because a tendril of smoke disappears
But becomes so many parts air
So many parts to remember
So many numbers to multiply
To get to the sixty seventh power of two
Minus one

Because out there lies a great road
An unanswered question
That you have forgotten
The bottom having dropped out before
And you, now knowing that you're walking on air
And nothing can stop a Protozoa
But stillness

Because there are books that have burned
With your name in them
Not scribbled in a schoolgirl's cursive
But in bold typeface
Copperplate and straight
Rich dimples in stiffened pulp
All your joints aching
When your number was called
And it was a number you had never heard of before

Because silence is too much
A burden for some other grist
The next time through
All the buildings will have different names on them
Different letters
Different languages
But the same boldface promise
To be stronger than what is unknown
More firm and less loosey-goosey
More nose and character
Less marbles and swirls

Because trust is not sinewy
Because stems can hold their mass
Because triangles are magic
And seeds are carried by lesser structures
--
12.20.11

Haiku Skeptic

2011-09-26T08:34:00.000-04:00

Hold my hand, darling
Let's pretend we are flying
Not sinking like stones
--
9.26.11

playing games not to be won, not for fun, for one set of eyeballs, or it's all a coverup

2011-09-23T09:34:00.001-04:00

Bag of:
Trick
Tools of:
Trade or Tolls of:
Passion
When dressing,
Think Giant;
Don't stop until
Another person appears
One that SLAPS!
An icon or
Character
That has flaws
Covered
In sublime paint
And luxurious fabrics
Make it tight
The shot
Up close
Lacking personal
--
9.23.11

Gary Memi

Your Face Is All Woman

2011-09-22T09:34:00.000-04:00

Well worn shoes
Not worn well
Worn out
Workers
New shoe blues
Either scuffed or spiffy
Spiffy can't stay
But scuff gets stuff done
Shirt and shoes must match
Or else bunchy, dumpy, slovenly
Slick is dastardly
White collars are stiff bastards
Blue collars are gruff and gravely
Middle office meltdown
Your face says peace
Your earrings says weekends
Your chest hair out of place
Your fanny pack with hanging gorilla zip pull a mystery
Don't enigma me
So early in the morning
Middle earth
Middle office
Middle man
--
9.22.11

Troy Davis Can't Trend

2011-09-21T09:33:00.001-04:00

When death becomes you
And your cheeks are drawn in
Like cups of light
With spots and flash bulbs firing from chambers
When all things seem impersonal
And fleeting
And the universe seems so vast
That you lose yourself in the temporary nature of things
And the Buddhists win
And the terrorists win
And everyone wins
You win too

When your good nature
Leads to ignoring good decisions
Leads to ignoring others
Leads to ignorance
When all the roads to your house
Are lined with trees or wild nature
And other homes are set back
And you pass a park
Or perhaps a gourmet grocery
Or perhaps a quaint inn
You may have lost your credibility

When leaves on a tree are easily swayed
And a few get released to the breeze
And this is nature
And mulch
And peat
And scotch
You may have lost your mind

When there are doubts
About death
Give credit to life
Sometimes it knows best
--
9.21.11

Waterworks

2011-09-20T09:53:00.000-04:00

This dowdy day
Cloudy and partial to insults
Before the tunnel
I searched for the meaning of G.O.A.T.
But the darkness came fast
And without a boat
These waters tend to chop
Until they fashion you into an anchor or mast
Last week of riding my bike
To and from and from and to
The same possibility should I become a spike
Bobbing along the fenceline as I do
Spike may become bridge
Bridge may become roadway
But the time I spent drowning for a smidge
Will keep me a passenger always
--
9.20.11

Hurry

2011-09-19T09:33:00.000-04:00

Hurry
Go pee
I have things to tell you
Like the dream I had
Where our child was kidnapped
Momentarily
By a girl
Who strolled off with him
I had climbed the steps of an attic apartment
Meant for a priest or a monk
The ornate wooden steps
A dead giveaway
That I shouldn't have left my son behind
When I saw her wisk him away
I ran after them
Through narrow cobblestone streets
When I eventually caught up with them
Her village elders were scolding her
And she seemed to be embarrassed
I grabbed my son from the stroller and hugged him tightly
He cried on my chest
And whimpered
"You didn't save me"
Sure I did
I did
--
9.19.11

Voicing Concern, Perhaps Even Shut Up

2011-09-15T09:25:00.000-04:00

Speak words to me
In your head
Then write them down
They sound so much more beautiful
When I say them to myself

Imagine them coming out of your mouth
But write them down instead
Read them to yourself
Then make a few changes
Before sending them on their way
And when you send them
Use a stamp

Flowing words like rapids over rocks
So majestic from far away
The spray becoming a cloud, a rainbow, a silken haze
Then walking closer
The scent of sulfur
The rush of noise
The constant pulse of movement
A headache
An overdose
Something better as an idea
--
9.15.11

Gallantly Not Today

2011-09-14T09:37:00.000-04:00

Ramparts
Make way
For something this-worldly
I need coffee
And a bread product
Maybe even some peanut butter
To spread across this sameness
Why can't we all wave our own flag now?
United under the icon and avatar
I see a Starbucks
I walk in
Under the giant logo
(not really)
I brew my own coffee
At home and at work
I am a poet
Not a green box
With codes written in permanent black
Against a matte white sky
But I will gladly fly your flag
At half mast
Or on another day
When I surrender
To that which consumes me
And that which needs to be consumed
--
9.14.11

Fleeing feathers

2011-09-13T09:31:00.000-04:00

Fleeing feathers
Shot in the air when
SURPRISE!
An oil can
Dressed as a duck
Walks into a bar
And says
Gunk gunk gunk
The duck
The hunter
The mechanic
All shocked
That their theory was right:
Oil dribble is a language
All to itself
The cartoons know
Gunk gunk gunk
Is Oil for
"Need more oil"
surprise.
It's Hemmingway time
Drink your drink
And get the hell out
Gunk gunk bang
--
9.13.11

Never Really Dry

2011-09-12T09:17:00.000-04:00

When things are really busy
We inadvertently share one towel
The closest we'll get to being together
In our own home
For a period of time
That damp towel
Never really getting dry
Reminding each other
We occupy the same space
Missing each other
By a few beads of water
A folded bathmat
A wet sink
--
9.12.11

September

2011-09-09T09:38:00.001-04:00

September comes in
With guns blazing
Firing on all cylinders
With labor in its teeth
Thrusting all things into itself
Engulfing

Then
Without warning
The equinox levels --
Convincing us it's over
Before it even started

Pumpkins and gourds
Will soon be on the table
Reds and oranges and burnt umbers
Quieting the mood
Hinting at the start of a fire
A little kindle to tinder
Against all that is dry
Erasing another season
Leaving nothing but ash
In a safe place for winter
--
9.8.11

small stuff

2011-09-08T09:54:00.000-04:00

In every step
the potential energy
to start a new universe
and one step closer
to the end of everything
--
9.8.11

Late For Something

2011-09-07T10:50:00.000-04:00

Standing a lot
Lately
And holding
On for
Dear life
Touching strangers
Gently
Like a brush here
And a
Brush there
Feels so personal but
The train is crowded
And there's no time
For spacial concerns
We are all
Late
For something
--
9.7.11

Seventy Percent Off on Fiction and Poetry

2011-09-06T09:48:00.001-04:00

Running through aisles
Looking between softer spines
For hidden gems
So anxious to find
Titles long ago forgot
Lists were made
Names and possible leads
All those tidbits
To be revealed
Now at my fingertips
If I can only buy
Five more minutes
From my wife
And explain the investment
In these dusty friends
That may come in handy
The next time
The power goes out
--
9.6.11

One I Can Carry, Two Is A Tray and Your Milk Spilled All Over My Cargo Net

2011-09-01T09:33:00.001-04:00

As mentioned
Previously
Living in the dark
I can do
I know how to forage
For coffee
But refuse to eat crickets
At least the kind that live like berries
I wish I could electrocute them all
They serve no purpose
Food for ants and spiders
They would get by
Without them
I doubt they are that delicious
As berries
As previously described
And more akin to snap peas gone bad
This is not like loving in the dark
That is for two
Even with computer screens
And cell phones
Illuminating
The night's shower of scattered dots
The night's blanket of cubic reshuffling
Love in the dark
For two
Is a meal
A real pleasure
To be enjoyed in courses
Or even as fast food
Real good fast food
With no guilt
Or caloric concerns
Just a gathering of ingredients
To be shared
Tried
Experienced
Finding a relief in the satisfaction
Of finishing
You can leave the plates where they are
We can do them later
The milk, however
And the cargo net
Are entirely different subjects
They are mistakes
That I own solely
Those I realize are my own issues
Or concerns
And will deal with them
As such
When I am ready
--
9.1.11

A discourse on objects

2011-08-31T09:06:00.001-04:00

It all made sense to her, she said.
Being an object, she meant.
Being objectified, sought after, bartered for, positioned into.
Most people want to be an object for the right person.
The safe person.
The person that has opened a can of beans up and let them spill down their face, down their chest, onto their shoes and then the floor.
Standing there with a ghastly look upon their face and crying with red eyelids and a glazed upper lip from snot and an ugly look of horror all upon them.
Their body a crumpled, shivering, heaving mess.
This shows how miserable they are.
How insecure and fragile they are.
This allows them to be picked up and to be loved and caressed and made love to.
After this, they can start a painstaking ascent.
An ascent into being precious, then wanted, then worshiped and objectified.
Mine is a powerful word. My, mine,
ours. All very powerful.
I don't have time for all that, she said.
I want to be objectified now.
By everyone.
At least thought of as an object.
An object of desire that can be had.
By the right person, anytime they want.
--
8.31.11

Being of (man next to me reads the Gita)

2011-08-30T09:17:00.001-04:00

Being of
Mindful sound
Surrounding body

Being of
This world
And not others
Known worlds
Unknown
One
And only

Being
Not not being
Aching for being
Inching toward not being
Stay breathing
Practice not breathing
Practice leaving
Leavening
Grieving

Being of sound
Being with mind
Being as part of a body
Being bodies in motion
Being busy
Busy bodies
Bustling
Making sounds
Challenging minds
Challenge your body

Being mindful
Being surrounded
By surroundings
Being mindful of that
That which surrounds
You
And your being
Being surrounded
Shrinking
With everything
At different speeds
Making creaking sounds
Only in the mind
Each individual being
--
8.30.11

Irene

2011-08-26T09:33:00.000-04:00

I've been through this
Where fear mixes with excitement
Some kind of big change
A forced impetus
To wipe the blackboard clean
Or just smear it
Into something that looks like a dragon
Or wound from a tiger's claw
People at their most human --
After seeing it once
You almost wish
Every day
Was a disaster
--
8.26.11

Trill

2011-08-25T09:32:00.001-04:00

Trill
Not as in truly real
Or so fantastic
But as in rolling R's
and vibrations
Blistering the tongue
at high speeds
Making a point
with flair
And serenading the hummingbird
With a lethargic and stale tune
--
8.25.11

Swimming in August

2011-08-24T09:49:00.001-04:00

Throwing logs
Into a sea of fire
Never knowing whether
It is fire that is being stoked
Or logs that are being absolved
--
8.24.11

Jawn

2011-08-23T09:55:00.001-04:00

Them grooves
Poppin off
And slammin in

These tracks
Easy to make
With supreme tools
God tools
People naming themselves
After gods
With hammers
And large stakes

Before that
Neighborhood names
Chico, Big and Little
XL, JR, Red

For fifteen decades
There were pieces
Now people raising up
Flags and prophets
Rewriting
Smalls editing in the genome
For hope that one
Will replace the other
Or at least
Seamlessly make itself known
--
8.23.11

Fledge

2011-08-22T09:32:00.001-04:00

Placebo gun shot
Hole with streamers pouring out
Pecan shell face
Walnut neck
Red flecks of strawberry sauce
Spit through a colander
At high velocity
Smoke that smells like animal
Roasted antelope
Or candied venison
Roasted over hickory chips
Some pledge of thick wet cuts
Family style
Plated and rescued
--
8.22.11

Stalemate

2011-08-19T09:29:00.001-04:00

Stalemate
Prevailing
Under moonlight
With ribbons
And balloons

Failsafe
Returning to every room
To check
For fire
Or things left on

Paleface
The lack of pigment
Without particular flavor
On the first round of licks
Gobstopping
Or Dinosaur Egging
--
8.19.11

Rails

2011-08-18T09:37:00.001-04:00

Waiting
With no track left
Sunlight boxed
Glistening on trails
Of what once was
Track I rode
--
8.18.11

Depart

2011-08-17T09:35:00.001-04:00

Being part
Strung up
Strewn apart
Drawn together
Sewn apart
Blind together
Signed apart
Feigned together
Mined apart
Fined together
Flung apart
Spliced together
Spiced together
Spied together
Sped together
Smashed apart
Being mashed
Being apart
Part being
Part parts
Depart
Parted
--
8.17.11

Placemark

2011-08-16T09:27:00.000-04:00

Legs seen
Hyper-extended
Buckled
In passing
Now past tensed
Past flexed or fixed
Unscripted
The way the story just takes over
Mother and daughter
Father and boy
The tail remembers
Being wagged
And wakes up
Screaming
--
8.16.11

Clovis

2011-08-15T08:45:00.002-04:00

Killing friends
is fun
in word games

Relatives are sticky --
games can be okay
but casual conversation
can let out secret feelings
that you will regret saying
later

Jealousy is the beast
that comes empty handed
and brings friends
Friends that don't like to play
word games
but like to eat cakes
especially with candles

The morning is filled with people that have no where to go
but work

On a cloudy day
you can imagine forever
being just past the fluffiest bunch

On a rainy day
express trains can take you clear across the country
to some other rainy lot
carved out of earth
and filled with sand and gravel
and made to look boxy and real

Somewhere near Clovis
or just outside of Oakland
there is a dugout
someone is crying
someone lost something lucky
this will happen over and over again
to all of us

In Queens County
things are wrapped in plastic
for their own sake
or the purpose unknown
better that way
with unintended consequences
occurring when the humidity
is at an all time high
--
8.15.11

Some Kiosks in the Mall Have Inate Artificial Intelligence

2011-08-12T09:23:00.001-04:00

To dip your candle
Then shave back layers
Exposing colors
You didn't know you had
Or maybe forgot
In the instant
The hot wax covered the skins
Sloughing off dead cells
Now partly wax
After a few times
Forgetting you are pink
And purple and green
And beautifully simple as is
Although not as decorative
Or eye-catching as you will be
After a transformation
Adding on or shaving back
Time made up of chips
Marbles and drips
Becoming a sea of forget
And reinvention
--
8.12.11

Darling

2011-08-11T09:35:00.001-04:00

Making something darling
Harder than it looks
Looks harder than softer
Soft things harder and harder to come by
Making something
Anything
Darling
Is hard
Making something soft that works
Amongst all the things that are hard
Even hard darling things
Should appear soft
There is work to be done
On the softness
Darling
There is hard work to be done
Making anything darling
Is hard work
Things darling soft on their own
Harder and harder to come by
Things take work
Work is hard
So we are hard at work
Darling
--
8.11.11

On the shore

2011-08-10T09:36:00.001-04:00

Upon forgetting
I scrambled
Left all things behind
To gather nothing
Not branches, not twine

Drove to the edges
To see what
Objects like driftwood
Piled carelessly
No nesting for good

After some time passed
I sunk in
Sand is forgiving
No structure as home
To define living

You can burn-up there
Disappear
To live fearlessly
Not always to roam
Mine was nearest me

Where particles mate
Assembled broken
To create new shapes
Leaving things spoken
To answer themselves
--
8.10.11

Bridges

2011-08-08T09:30:00.000-04:00

If there are bridges I don't know
They take me places I've been
Over water
From island to mainland
Across a gangly terrain
Before all makers
Bowed and loose

There are bridges in dreams too
That hang on nothing
Suspend from everything
Angled to the sky
For clarity
We look into the light
And say
I must go there
I go, that way
--
8.8.11

Bipedal Study

2011-08-05T09:30:00.001-04:00

Whereas berry pop
and grapey wine gums
make me feel so
accessorized and better
about what's grown
over all my bones
this too shall pass
with my fizzy flair
and jesus will know me
like we were friends
in some ramshackle village
just a few thousand years ago
no hookas
just healing
and wine

Then there was that idea I had
about going into design
because I'm hip on what's what
and I like things fresh and crisp
and people like fresh and crisp
and I like most people that like fresh and crisp
as long as they are not racist
some people have money and no class
some people can't stand to see a dude just go for his
that's why I'm thinking that commercial advertising is where it's at
people always need to know what to buy
for themselves

It's not the best coffee
but it's fine enough
doing the trick
What time lunch
What time Bob
What time to mow tomorrow
What time
I like fruit and I don't eat enough
I don't think anyone eats enough fruit
--
8.5.11

Aha!

2011-08-04T09:54:00.000-04:00

Vinyana
Germ of Consciousness
Eightfold Path
Samsara

I just made a picture
A right handed bird flipping
Made of Buddhist terminology
Now open left backhand
Or right palm-up

Now for a fist
To show a pain
Existing deeply
In my nature

Actions
All of which, including positions
Can be accomplished
Or unaccomplished
In poetry or yoga
--
8.4.11

Scarecrowed

2011-08-03T09:45:00.002-04:00

If you happen to see my clothes
Wearing me
All about town
Dragging me 'round like a Raggedy Andy
Withdrawn and restless
Lethargic and decomposed
Tell them to go home
Pack up
And head for better weather
Pack a pair of boat shoes
And my favorite wine opener
There will be drinking
And some line-caught fish
Tell my clothes
They are all invited
Even the long sleeves
And jackets
--
7.3.11

The original

2011-08-02T09:58:00.000-04:00

The original
Meant to be outdone
Or overtly saturated
Copied and perfected
Or copied and diluted
Symbolizing progress
The inventive spirit
Walking out of mud
Returning with shoes
Buying the swamp
From sun and moon
In pressed minerals
Laying pressed mud
Blocking the entrance
Safely placed inside
With as much coin
As can possibly fit
Forgetting to call
Both sun and moon
And thank them
For a real good time
Becoming a slug
No need for shoes
Sliding off a chair
Slithering into dirt
Back into earthen
Seeping into tunnels
Wormcrafted wells
Back to the ocean
Now pink and green
To develop a system
That can breathe oil
Or gills with fingers
To grab the things
We hold most dear
And synthesize them
Into nutritional meals
Becoming parts of whole
Over and over again
--
8.2.11

For All Intents: Balconies

2011-08-01T09:46:00.000-04:00

All the fire escapes aglow
Not deep orange furnace heat
But candles and string lights
Tables reflecting a flickering shine
Chairs filled with people chatting
Bottles empty and adding vague colors
Cigarette butts like fireflies drinking wine
Laughter in waves, bouncing around corners
Not knowing where conversations begin or end
People are smiling until someone drops their keys
And when the fire comes
Everyone is prepared
Grab what is important:
The fire escape railing.
--
8.1.11

What It Is

2011-07-29T09:52:00.001-04:00

It's not that I don't think you're beautiful
It's a small problem I have
With looking at things on such a microscopic level
That zooming out is not an option
Up close like this
A lot of people are ugly
Not just you, baby
Not just you

It takes a woman like you
To bring out the worst in me, baby
I can get caught up on those dots and follicles and marks for days
Lost in a dimpled world of imperfections
Some people say imperfections are beautiful, baby
Not me
You should find them
Those are your people

I'm a lot like you, baby
Except I take care of myself
And I except my own imperfections
Because I except my ugly
I don't want to make it beautiful, baby
I like it ugly
But you
You want imperfections to be beautiful
And I
I just can't stand for that
--
7.29.11

Hustle

2011-07-28T09:26:00.000-04:00

Jane says she's done
Done with surgeons
But not Cetaphil
Not Cats
And not the musical
Jane is done

Ms. M mysteriously makes moves
Nightly tightening right
Feeling her way
Through dark escapes
She pauses on vintage drapes
Scrunchy texture
That burlappy threaded mess
Reminds M of hair
All good kinds
Even stripped
And reformed

Work it girls
Lime gorillas
In mustard Buicks
Hit your hot pink rubber room
With rack and pinion
Pine tree scented razor ball
Cut the juice sap from silent alarm
Make the honey pop
Like lobster rhinestone
Cover bodies in plastic ice
Cube the gleam and let off
Hissssssssssss...
Steamy pork buns
Dot the center
Orange red
Punjabi sauce
You're real effects
xoxo
--
7.28.11

Gel

2011-07-27T09:31:00.000-04:00

Starting its form
Like stacked globes
With bubbles stuck
And sticking out

Smooth to touch
A creamy appearance
Then hardening flat
No skeletal structure

Disappearing like webs
Into thin air
Mostly water then
Even glycols breathe

Same is true
For hidden gems
Residing in secret
Never coming out
--
7.27.11

A poem for Marc Maron

2011-07-26T09:25:00.001-04:00

Simple disgust
Is not enough
You must spit
Or want to spit
If you are not near a curb or sidewalk planter
It is understandable
One must draw the line somewhere
When spitting

Feeling the weight of the world
All the strain of the known universe
The known
That exists
Between two ears
And other muscle memory locations
Synced up
Ready to burn against that which it holds dear
Namely
Its conductor
Major operator

The balls
Or audacity
Is oft attributed to having some testosterone
Left to spare
But perhaps
It's a learned behavior
That can be brought to the surface
In defense
Of that which is most scary --
Independent action
Commitment
Life saving or life taking measures
All of which require
Nothing more than practice
--
7.26.11

The Raconteur of Metuchen

2011-07-25T09:26:00.002-04:00

Nestled
Between nothing so charming as:
A quaint Main
with pedestrian crosswalks
every few hundred feet
flower and tree lined
spotted with disassembled youth
dressed so haphazardly as to suggest
comfort and freedom
in both fabric and family values
in both still life and government
the kind that is said to be "easy breezy"
but dangerously forward thinking
without any stops
no limitations nor bounds
just faith and trust and mutual respect
perhaps some expectation
(and perhaps not the unhealthy kind)
tied to the earth with just enough string as to hover
complacently
gliding back and forth and rarely shuddering against the wind
magnetized curbside
gathering before glass fronts filled with tid bits and trinkets
to make this life feel real
as opposed to from a movie
or in a movie
or based on a movie made for TV
but real chipped paint
and an authentic bench to be brushed off daily
window pictures
with everything placed just right
with changes taking place over hundreds of man hours
spread out as minutes
glazed on top of an already wholesome lacquer of seconds
ticking in a clock with hands
body full of gears and cranky parts
a slight echo against actual salica
made into a dome
to cover things that can be changed
by meddling hands
that know how to take things apart muss
but don't know how to put things back together again...

And a simple crossroad
with a traffic signal
and vehicles moving at approximately 27 miles per hour
unless turning
in which case
a mere 12 miles per hour on a left turn
and 16 on a right
so as to not barrel into town
but certainly enough momentum to pick up some steam on the way out
an artery connecting neighborhoods
bringing a prickly feeling to the outer extremities
a slow trickle
not to be felt by the highway
or byway
a thump against the neck
to know things are living
but not a fever
not a racing heat
not a rash
and not to be taken out of context
--
7.25.11

A Broken Bottom Boat

2011-07-15T15:23:00.003-04:00

Roll over
Dig deep
Twin fighter

Flip libertyTrade wind
Plus one country code

Punk hideaway
Drowned beats and
Hemlock olive loaf

Office gophers
Relics
Dancing

Like it's Dia de los Muertos
Ankle bit
By a 3 legged Chihuahua
--
7.15.11

Means, Modes, and Manes

2011-07-14T09:11:00.000-04:00

From the birth of the cuff
Your dandy "well, I have to wear something" attitude
Has caused the gears of production to endlessly grind
In the teeth, poor Aristotle, his flesh mangled and toga torn
Dirtied by the grease of whales
Not the dusty ground of seat and brush off
That cloud that surrounded him
From the youthful clatter that raised hands and pointed fingers
Now swagged out
With serious drinking problems
And circling back
For no reason other than
To gather their wolves
Not to father the pack
Your fancy seam
Left an indelible mark
On the psyche of Everyman
And now, all crusty with the powdered mash of hummus and plasma
You absorb into skins
Onto scenes
Not al fresco
Not chiaroscuro
But dangling from a batch of keys
Hanging from a caribeaner
You assess the belt loop
And wether it is worthy
To hold such a wealth of access
--
714.11

Not What We Say

2011-07-13T09:29:00.001-04:00

Not to be challenged on the idea of Homer or physics or the melting point of sugar, we'll squeeze all these migraines into one giant muffin tin and collapse at two-hundred fifty degrees.

After singing some made up children's song and trying to understand SpaceGhostPurrp before being asked why things are studded with broken glass, like fences and gate posts, I levitated into the kitchen and broke open a stale box of pecan brittle, only to be disgusted by the lack of peanuts.

When all things finally do pass, the storage bill will be immense and all our problems, like hardened packets of sugar-substitute, will be sent to the sun to party one last time.

--
7.13.11

Gullet Disaster Imagined

2011-07-12T09:27:00.000-04:00

Like a chrysanthemum with firecrackers for pistils
Like so many branches of cauliflower broken open by a stinkbug
Like an up-do made of earthworms

Little ninja stars
Aglow from sitting in the fire too long
Finished with a slow dip
Into chocolate milk
These static bruises
Never changing color
Forever pigmented
Forever pimento olives
Swallowing forever more toothpicks
By accident
And forgetting about them
Fish bones humming
And timepieces
Tick-tocking
Stray fragments
All happy to find
A little resting place
A home of sorts
With the world whooshing by
--
7.12.11

Jazz

2011-07-11T09:22:00.000-04:00

It's not what we do
Not putting things in piles
Not not separating things
Either by variation or
Not by variation
Or in a stretch, not by
color, style, type, make, model,
shape, distinguishing feature;
But rather
by being
and not being
something
At all
--
7.11.11

Getting the Mind Right

2011-07-08T09:38:00.001-04:00

Holding it
Like 40 pounds of grain
In the gut
Adding water weight
Sopping wet
Eventually mildew
And spoil
On a lighter note
There are amazing sales on shoes
Just west of 6th Avenue
On 34th Street
--
7.8.11

Familiar Faces

2011-07-07T09:10:00.000-04:00

I don't recall your hairy persona
But have created one for you
It matches up to one that resembles
Your bristly exterior

Another friend
That likes vests
And flat caps
will do just fine

Wear this when we speak
Or I will don you in it
When your words begin to flow
They will seem foreign
Unless I pretend
That you do not speak my language
Or a veil hangs over you
Like a birdcage
Keeping the other you inside
So that I may be comfortable
With the archetypes
I have already created
--
7.7.11

Buckled Over, Hunched

2011-07-06T09:35:00.001-04:00

The idea of what we do
Thorough
--
7.6.11

Animal Crackers

2011-07-05T09:50:00.001-04:00

Between us a sea
Mostly made up of licorice bones
and iced tea
A few floating lemonade barges
and sugary dots of spray
Crates and cartridges
Sno-cone bumpers
bone on bone
No cartilage

Between us an ocean
Of clanging keys and soft spun string
Each hinge oiled with stingy drips
Leftover from barning and cattling
Chicks and calves
Anything splitting the wave of legs
Two by four in halves
--
7.5.11

Symphony Tribute to Cabins

2011-06-30T09:43:00.000-04:00

I.
All the logs known to man
Once trees and placed together
Rooted to the hot center
And splayed out like a bunch of arrows
Banded together like so many stalks of asparagus
Left behind for concrete, and lots of it

II.
Who would have thought to lay gravel
Fashion your own tool handles
Use geometry and a good eye...
What's the stove made out of?

III.
Let's join hands
Like bandanas
Only hands
Let's crawl out of this castle
Let's cascade like tissue paper
Click like cicadas
Rub legs and hairs
Wait - only hands
Let's cut off branches
And let the trunks go light and dry
Then let's smoke pipes
Stove pipes or tobacco
This too is a pipe
This too is a pipe
--
6.30.11

Tranquil Still

2011-06-29T11:03:00.000-04:00

I know why tickle and pink are so often together
That giggly bunch of sweet and sober
That potbellied pig of a combo
All silky smooth and slithering around the other
Like ribbons of egg in hot and sour soup
Encircled around shoots and noodles

Not really ready for digestion
Or graffiti on roof access doors
Not ready for let downs or strict one-eighties
Just wading in the river of comfort and pleasure
Uninterrupted by the snakes and gators
Just inches below
Where waters are colder
The actions erratic
A murky stew blending chum and salt

Rarely a splash made for fun
But almost always ending in silence
A rolling river lends itself to a quiet lake
Ends itself as a tranquil banquet
--
6.29.11

Fragiled

2011-06-28T09:28:00.000-04:00

To break your silence
I mean really break it into tiny pieces
I mean separate the shards of ignore
From the chips of discontent
To brush all the flakes of conditioning
And all the needles of time
And all the flecks of regret
And all the scaly specks of affect
Into the dustpan of changed forever
Will take a monumental impact
I am not sure I am capable of
But, to let it break on it's own
Your silence
From pressure and outside force
May be too much for me to bare
So, with as much as I can muster
I am releasing a stone of possible
A small pebble of painful truths
Not true on their own but by what we have made them
A small rock with rough edges
In hopes
That it is just enough
To do the trick
--
6.28.11

Knowing Striped Objects

2011-06-23T09:29:00.000-04:00

Admiring bangles on boys with nice bags
Knowing a calf is Chinese from the back
Rounding corners with patience and repetition
Wearing a fanny pack in the front for access
Leaving the gorilla hanging from a Kipling
Striping the hair to match striping on shoes to match striping in nature
To match striping in architecture
To match striping in molecular patterns
Gearing up and stopping when there are no more gears
Admitting that Johnson and Johnson's baby soap does not warrant a slogan that states: no more tears
Wristing a small face timepiece to keep with the thin symmetry
Not caring what happens when you die so long as it is painless
Not caring that the pain is painful so long as it is the last pain
Wanting more pain if it means you can live and breathe longer
Fighting fear to give up and not go anywhere
Knowing that a tree could fall on your house
Knowing that a downed power line could take you out
Knowing that phantom blood diseases are perhaps curses brought on by masturbation
Knowing that this world is only room enough for so many things
Knowing when to stop making things
Knowing when to stop collecting things
Things/Objects/Pieces\Collectables\Heirlooms
Ghastly/Stinky/Sad\Multiplying\Beautiful
--
6.23.11

never back again

2011-06-22T10:04:00.001-04:00

never back again
Little Spanish men
sleepy downtown Miami
Ham and Eggery
stereo on the sidewalk
Chicken hawk view
front of the church
Nurture lurch
first period
The kind with bells in myriad
joke health
Smoke and climb stairs stealth
or spanish
Men selling bananas
I remember making out
Shadows in doubt
stairwells
Sunflower shells
second floor of a restaurant
Limited font
during lunch
Jungle punch
not sex
Other things to collect
graffiti stickers
Scanty knickers
graffiti stickers
Rain slickers
skateboard
There beneath some fat cord
skateboarding shoes
Mostly for non-jews
objects
Become projects
investment experience
Becomes interference
memory failure
Stale urine
skateboard concert
Double decker cotton shirts
bags and belts
Now rear delts
switch them up
Kitty and pup
too scared important
Aborted
burried that way
Like Flavor Flav or Cassius Clay
All the things that don't matter,
matter to someone
matter sometime
--
6.22.11

Crumple Zone

2011-06-21T09:15:00.001-04:00

When all birds crash
Wake from slumber exhausted
Explain on this mule-toe
Engage/Disengage stripe theme

After soft down feather
Allow for dream sequence
Refer back to renderings
Refrain from pixel retention
Examine all objects equally
Entertain notion of complexity

Leave behind ghost script
Learn to mambo tiger
Occupy two frames simultaneously
Or disappear in smoke
Stern disapproval is feral
Slap is for bass
Torn between twin pops
Two icy schisms uneven
--
6.21.11

Letter to no one, in particular

2011-06-16T09:16:00.001-04:00

I'd love to chat sometime about perhaps dying at any of the next World Fairs. I would like to start falling apart a little bit at a time. More about the production aspect of failing in case I transition out of this universe at some point and want to move in all directions at once. Let me know when you might have a moment to talk about that as a possibility. I also have my own inner conflicts that are self evident if you only deal with loose cannons.
Thanks,
Your Name Here

Cleft

2011-06-15T11:16:00.001-04:00

Sharing
All we can do
From navel to cave
Two feet in the grave
Always at least one
Until we can't bare to share
One more drop of tethered sun
Running amok
Like ants in a fire
Sharing every last breath
On one long tightwire
Never knowing our steps
Circle back around the depth
Of one long rest
Remembering the crest
Just in time to feel the buckle -
That heft, undertow
Cleft
--
6.15.11

In A Bind?

2011-06-14T09:12:00.001-04:00

In a bind?
Apologize!
A million gracious thank you's
Blessings and good will be placed upon you
Once, twice, maybe even thrice!
You can get away with things
After that
It becomes annoying
The chronic failure
The lack of ability
The thoughtlessness
Then you are banished
Sent away to be miserable
Somewhere else
Alas!
You have found your way!
Apologize to yourself
And, hopefully
You are still young enough to change
--
6.14.11

No Glory

2011-06-13T09:32:00.001-04:00

In defeat there is peace
In the same way that winning
Keeps trending
And losing has promise
Where heaven is filled with non-agitators
Still, most everyone wants a trophy
If for nothing else
To symbolize the endurance of spirit
--
6.13.11

Conversing with the Non-Listening Non-Dead

2011-06-10T09:46:00.000-04:00

In conclusion
Your hungry pasta breakup
Lead to your Change Everything attitude
It sickened everyone around you
Including heads of state
Your body looks tremendous though
You have the best posture
I wish more people were as genetically fortunate as you
Bulk your arms though
They look like dead branches
When carpenter ants ravage a Japanese maple
It reeks havoc on the nervous system
Or root system, whichever you prefer to call it
--
6.10.11

On Some

2011-06-09T10:23:00.001-04:00

On some
He said, she said
We all say something
Not meaningful or keepsakey
But believing in usefulness
Big shoes or clogs
Tapping

On some
He be, we be
Creating a collection
Rodeo of cells that had their day
Mutation of zygotes
Now escalating
Stairs

On some
She won't, I can't
Doobie doobie doo-wop
When we move lips to make sounds
Some are shaped like lies
Others hollow
Fulfilled

On some
We will, we do
Adjusted gross incoming
Bagging all the baggables together
For a parallel evolution party
It's a sock hop
Barefoot
--
6.9.11

Going Underground

2011-06-08T11:25:00.000-04:00

Ears pop
Kids cry
Awkward eyes
Until train sputters
Onward, upward
--
6.8.11

When Living In A Chimney

2011-06-07T09:13:00.001-04:00

When living in a chimney
Your perspective is skewed
That which is building is chimney
That which is chimney is home
When living with bricks for windows
There is mortar to be identified
Cracks represent problems
Hairline fractures let light in
Bugs find their way into everything
But these are giant bugs
That don't mind tar
Nor monoxide
Because they are chimney bugs
And you live inside a chimney
--
6.7.11

Luggage

2011-06-06T09:29:00.000-04:00

Luggage
Comes with a bit of grunt
Even some body odor
But once a pack is open
There is nothing like stacking shirts
Finding a place for socks
Looking out a new window
Contemplating which way east may be
What's next -
Coffee or liquor?
Oh, how exciting a trip can be
There better be a window
--
6.6.11

Poem for Point A (Datahowler)

2011-06-03T09:34:00.000-04:00

Funky prince shoes
Slap fat back
Silly flap putty pat
Knock worse morse coding
Floating on fondue Compton
Slipped disco pancake gravy
Slavey rave baby
Official General generic stomp
Groovy swamp lob
Keyborn flutter fizz
Wompy wimp slop
On frazzled flax bread
Flat attack on Pratt
This juicy brain biscuit
Just won't stoppage
Cranial mop present
Swab basement dex
Flitter fun sexy
Eat cabbage
Braise tenderly
Love everything melty
Burp bubble gum vest
Float away luscious
Lemon sky meringue
Thin crinkle dissipates
Wooshy silence
It's just a pause baby
Heaven has reverb
--
6.3.11

40 Lbs. of Pollen

2011-06-02T09:29:00.000-04:00

40 Lbs. of Pollen can't be wrong
Least favorite screen saver
Sand with shadow
Or dust on film
(just for effect)

Pee in the corner
For now or always
Let the drain carry you away
Out to sea and until we meet again
As air or water or food
As take-out, gatorade or gas mask
Fill me up again
And I will push you down
With help from inertia

Save all things
Face and matter
Like blankets in summer
Stripper money
Cotton fill
Warp yarn and weft
Woof and howl
Keepsake

Strum guitar or uke
Sing falsetto
Make it lovely
Breathy chorus
Join in hands
Pat the dirt
Down
Let it settle
Then blow
Like candles out
Half pound of pressure
40 lb. max
--
6.2.11

Off Gas

2011-06-01T09:07:00.002-04:00

Your concerns are not my concerns
Where you lose me is with your argument about car crashes
That is to say
Limiting your driving significantly reduces your odds for a crash
The same holds true here
What we are talking about is exposure
That is to say
Just because you make food
Doesn't mean I have to eat it
That is to say
Your starving China defense
Is also riddled with holes

Priority seating for the disabled
Now there is a concept I can get behind
It requires humans to act human
And promotes dialogue
There is no handicap cover-up
Either you are fraudulent
Or you deserve some priority
It doesn't matter if you were drunk when you became crippled
If it occurred during war time
Or because of childhood disease
If you are a drunk in a wheelchair
That is a different story

But back to the industrial age of unreason
I think I need a bullet
Put between my eyes
Because I cannot live amongst all this convenience
It is so convenient
And makes itself so readily available
I forget what it was like
Before all this
My refillable water bottle
And biodegradable trash can
Is no match for your constant conveyor of plastic bath toys
Your flip flops are so tempting
Your window treatments are the only affordable option
My shower curtain gets moldy and who has time for vinegar and sunshine
So I call a truce
And promise to never tell my children's children that you did this to them
I did
As a knowing contributor
I coerced you to make my life easier
I asked for mica to become Formica
And linoleum to look more like fine tile
When my synapses fire all willy nilly
And my children can't sit and read more than a paragraph at a time
And my wife says a little bit won't hurt us
I will let you off the hook
Because you are only acting in my best interest
As stock
As a holder
As living stock with a weak hold
As cinder
As bacon
As bullet riddled cheese
As a piñata
As a patsy
As a figment of your imaginative research
Our opposition only exists in concept without us
We only exist together without opposition
In this struggle
There are only rats
And off gas
--
6.1.11

Because You Are Pretty

2011-05-31T10:28:00.000-04:00

Because you are pretty
I am not allowed to talk
Because you were a stranger
You are encroaching
Because you are interesting
It makes it ten times worse
If you were rich
You would be highly suspect
But being poor
Makes you slightly sketchy

Because you are pretty
Our conversation ends here
There will be no business card exchange
Because we met randomly
This was not trade related
We are fields that intersect
And that is enough
To drive things south

Because you are pretty
We should cut this short
People will begin to call it flirting
Or an emotional transgression
On my part
You are safe
But also a little muddied
Because I am clearly wearing a ring

Because you are pretty
There is no such thing as polite
This is taboo
And against all better judgment
Even the ugly girl behind the counter
Is wondering what we were thinking
This is a retail store
Not a bar

Because you are pretty
I will think about how this would go down if you weren't
You would have my business card
And we would perhaps be discussing a project soon
We could have some professional fun
And maybe even an after work drink
Because there would be no shame
When someone I knew
Saw me in a window
Sipping a cocktail with a plain woman

Because you are pretty
I will never see you again
We will never cross paths knowingly
We will only work together by coincidence
And even then it will seem less coincidental
And more like fate
Beating me down

Because you are pretty
You should hang out with pretty people
They understand your woes
They can help you succeed
They can talk you through this
Help you navigate your way
Through only pretty things
I, my dear, must remain limited
By my charm and character
--
5.31.11

99¢ Dreams

2011-05-26T09:20:00.000-04:00

Enjoy life while you're alive she said
Fuck off right he said
All under breath
Mutable

I've got a real fast bike now he said
Don't need me then she said
99¢ dreams
Sold

All these callouses on my palms
Just means I carry more
More than little hands
Should

You let the flies in he said
I let you in she said
Well I'll be damned
Flies

That crusty night
Folded over now
Repeated like a recipe
In hushed tones

There were beautiful flowers
Right outside the window
Somewhere outside the window
Neither of us looking very hard

When I smoke you smoke
When I cry you cry
Just bleed out already
Or slither away

Not an attack
Never personal
It's you or me
And I'm hungry

It's getting late he said
Late enough she said
We should go
Vroom
--
5.26.11

Winning Season

2011-05-25T11:33:00.000-04:00

Men sporting
Holding high
Value players
And moves

Embrace this
Few virtues
As meaningless
But true

Hollow growler
Chest kindle
Keeping alive
Tail spirit

Radiant score
Diffused purpose
Snuffed out
And forgotten
--
5.25.11

Amniotes

2011-05-24T09:29:00.001-04:00

Never sure footing
On branches
All the way
Up or out

Probably belong in a pool
With other over easy eggs
But instead
I will write you a letter

Dear you
Be static
In your stasis
Is magic

Not to alarm
But as we move for more oxygen
Or follow our food off the plate
We become more of what we hate

Unless you are non-newtonian
Or full newt
Or nutella
Then behaving is counterproductive

Lashing out
With tongue and cheek
Is the necessary end
To an otherwise splintered offshoot

In hindsight
You have to peer over your shoulder
For no one can see
That well

In conclusion
There is ruin in the nostril
Like a sulphuric powder
Once alive at high temperatures

After all that
Be released
Leaving imprint
That snubs noses
--
5.24.11

Adult Puppet Theatre

2011-05-23T09:25:00.001-04:00

In your deepest method
Stretching through your foot
Not past hinge
Brushing against your own puffy sleeve
Your own
Like stick arms and stick legs
Tied or pegged
Fastened for good
Or for reason
Reason enough good
Good enough reason
These things get colored
Dyed or painted
And what of bad
Bad comes in waves
Spots and lines
That's all there is
There are spirals
Checks and angles
All lines
There are dots
Negative diamonds and stars
All spots
Waves only know waves
For when it is silent
No rippled spots
No jagged angry teeth
Waves hide in lines
Until abruptly awoken
Touching at crest and tied
Touching in gut until spot
Then abiding
By all rules that display
Method
--
5.23.11

All That Is

2011-05-19T09:27:00.002-04:00

O, Shanty
O, Village
I left so long ago
Your softly protruding gables
Your tight angles
Your beams of weatherbeaten wood

O, Shanty
O, Village
O, there overgrown wild nature
Find comfort in your hungry summer
Rest in your frozen fall

O, Shanty
O, Village
Your bricks not needing edge
Your corners not needing completion
I radiate back in baked and glazed memories

O, Shanty
O, Village
O, special place
Where the loneliest days befallen
Captured the last of my youth
Drank it up in cup
And spilled it back to sea

O, Shanty
O, Village
O, far away place
O, whatever I want it to be

O, Shanty
O, Village
I sing your name nigh
I may never be back home with thee
--
5.19.11

Big Folk

2011-05-18T10:23:00.000-04:00

Large people talking to each other
In groups
Reminds me of seals
On rocks
In San Francisco
I wish it didn't
But if we're sharing secrets
I must announce
I was bullied by a heavy kid when I was a child
And never recovered
He tried to push me out of a tree
Because he wanted to see me fall
I know a lot of overweight people are mild mannered
But if we're being honest
I have reservations

Sometime later on
This boy fell out of a tree
On his own
And broke his arm
This also scared me
Because I was frail
I'm bigger now
With a little extra weight of my own
But not much
Not nearly enough
--
5.18.11

Picnic

2011-05-17T09:54:00.001-04:00

These are not
Spears in the ground
No shots in dark matter
These are credible results
Gathered for celebration
Left unfettered
For ants to pick at
--
5.17.11

Taking Stock

2011-05-16T09:31:00.000-04:00

Taking stock
To rewrite and edit
What makes things better
Like ticking tables
What makes things stay
Some things star
Some things start right up

Toggling between
Inventory
Making marking marks
Collecting flock
Checking box

There is permeation
In so much as
There is so much
To get in between
And so little to
Get into

Small labels
For corners and tops
Stacks and limits
Pin locks and stops

Slight permutations

Trying to hush a loud knock
An irregular proxy
For clicking clocks

stations
Separating sermons
from mongrel meat
Lest we beast
like carrion

Sharing bits
Like this
Allows
the news to come through
in spits
To spin out hits
It's weaving now
In spurts
Through slits
Until it splits
--
5.16.11

If We're Being Honest

2011-05-13T11:18:00.000-04:00

If we're being honest
We shouldn't
--
5.13.11

Fly Paper

2011-05-12T09:48:00.000-04:00

I know
These poetry events
They are like fly paper
So I try to not get too attached
To any idea
That might change my mind
About what poetry is
For me

You know
The clickety clip
In the in-to-nation
The...breathy pause
The gasp for air as the climax arrives
I hate that
Because it is inauthentic for me
But I am glad that it works
For you

We know
When we hear something that fits
Just right
In between our ears
Like fuzzy dynamite
Making us shutter
For a second
Getting us engrossed in the puzzle
That poetry can be
And then lost like cotton flower husk
Into the mulchy top
Only to be reabsorbed
At some later date, time and place
Always reminding me
That life is made up of moments
And poetry can be
Just that
A string of perfect moments
Tied together with a taut string
The juicy beads of the piece:
Where we connect
The string: where we wander off for a while
Some people think
That a good poem
A really good poem
Is a beautiful collection of beads
Displayed on a velvet cushion
With no string
Some people think
That a string with one bead
Makes a perfectly good necklace
They are both right
And both wrong
Depending on the date, time and place
This much we should know is true
For us
--
5.12.11

Rose With A Broken Nose

2011-05-11T10:11:00.001-04:00

There goes Rose
They said
Rose with a broken nose
How'd it happen
No one knows
But here is how the story goes

Rose was walking with one of her beaus
A well liked gal with class, I suppose
Another lover despised whom she chose
One fair fall evening when summer slows
And so he chose an aggressive pose
The other beau's body temperature rose
He cocked his left arm, used for striking foes
But caught poor Rose square on her nose
They all looked foolish, for average Joes
But none so more than whom Rose chose
She never chose him again, I suppose
Or the other way around, to juxtapose
Or at least that's how the story goes
Last time I heard about dear old Rose

Second story goes like this:
Rose was headed for marital bliss
Her suitor a jockey with a Cockney lisp
A sweet young man with a forehead wisp
Come to think of it, I think he had a slipped disk
From falling off a horse from Minsk
He liked a risk, and getting pissed
In the English fashion, gin with a twist
He had also gone and broken his wrist
Which is why he couldn't ball up a fist
Not important if you're making a list
But as the story goes, not to be missed
It was unfortunate and because of this
That Rose began to work the grist
She got so strong they did enlist
Her services as grain mill machinist
Someone was jealous, said she had a tryst
With a friendly lad, though a nihilist
Her beau came in and asked "who's this?"
He got no answer, but worked up a fine mist
The workers were screaming while the nihilist hissed
Rose knew her beau couldn't make a fist
So she took matters personally and threw 'round her mitts
Caught almost everyone with stern solid hits
And just when she thought about calling it quits
The foreman decided she lost all her wits
He punched her...
Dead in the nose...
That's what I heard happened to Rose

Story Three:
Same thing happened to me
I heard the old girl with a jingling key
Coming in through the door 'bout a quarter to three
Saw my pants laying there
Just strewn on the floor
Got up in a hustle, scared to the core
Sent a girl out the back
Though she tried to ignore
What I'd told her twice over and twice again more
Panic attacked when my Rosey came in
She saw me without any clothes and in sin
She froze for a moment, then collapsed like a hose
Fell down and broke her sweet little nose
That's how she got the name Broken Nose Rose
And just a fine start for many more woes
For Rose had a bloke in tote with her too
If I hadn't been naked there's no tellin' what I'd do
The man she was with helped me gather my things
I left that old shanty shack without my gold rings
But, they paid for her nose job, a simple procedure
You just break it again at your own drunken leisure
Then set it with ice on another man's shoulder
My new love inquired, but that's not what I told her
I told her I broke my nose too that fine day
When Rose showed up cheating to my scorn and dismay
It's gotten much better, but it hurts when it snows
So I stay inside while off to work my Rose goes
I'll be back to work just as soon as I can
Or when I get to thinkin' Rose has found a new man
--
5.11.11

The Pink Slip

2011-05-10T09:51:00.000-04:00

It was a softball game on a beautiful day
So perfect that a few thin clouds
Had thrown themselves against the crystal sky in tribute
It was an all girls league
The coach, yelling about a first base call, would never coach softball again.

I remember a fly ball, too, hit to left field
With bases loaded
Hit a glove about the same time
A man walked on the field,
Spoke with the angry coach,
And we cheered for our team.

--
5.10.11
Based on "The Melon" by
Charles Simic

Parlay

2011-05-09T09:51:00.000-04:00

Leftovers
Don't hurt as much
As pinch on the inside
Doesn't hurt as much
As clogged up
Doesn't bother as much as
Imminent attack
Doesn't sound as bad as
Hemorrhaging or
Unsalvageable
But a rally
Still sounds good
As does flirty
And calibrated
Lotus
Refreshed and
Fragrant
Starry and
Subtle
But goes away with
Referendum
On the fence and
Stately
--
5.9.11

Chest and Drawers

2011-05-06T09:03:00.001-04:00

Your ornate doily
Matches your china pattern
Just perfectly
All those things shoved into your cabinet
Neatly; shoved

These accents and nuances
All together separating every detail
So far apart
You almost can't tell
There are chips in the china
Stains in the cotton
Perfect; flawed

In that transparent cage
We think everything stands out
So we hide the inconsistencies
Turn things ever so much this way
And that
On the off chance that someone might notice
Forgetting all the while
The doors are solid
And rarely opened
Protected; naked
--
5.6.11

On Reflected Silence, On Continental Divide, On Spruce Street

2011-05-05T09:25:00.001-04:00

Houses in rows believing their directionality
Like cursive tags of graffiti
one on top of the next
A practice chalkboard of a life
The life of fading letters
Where little sandy pieces of concrete
don't know what they are carrying away with them
Not caring
for concrete or other elements, likewise
Burying screws in them
buying and selling screws that do that kind of job
Going through rock or concrete or steel
and borrowing your neighbors' equipment
Driving your screws loose
driving your closest ones crazy
Drowning noodles
in sauce
All floppy in silence
other than a slurp
It is a lack of material
That makes up for a lack of material
or unconscionable artifacts
falling off the wall
Being folded up in fist and filled in
being figurined and sequestered
being sequined and beleaguered
Finding horns in your soup
Leaving pine in your place
a less than lullaby
Called Less Than
or Elicit Concern, a concerto in B
or a notebook with diagrams
Or a recipe
for unmanned flight with fans
floor boards
narrow narrow
hide and go sordid
Stack stack stack
Lined up for showers
boxcars
Planks
striation
--
5.5.11