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Tuesday, May 23, 2017

ANOTHER DAY



I snake through these streets
at dawn
oxygen is brain food

come back
hoist the weights
do my Falun Dafa

still only 8 o'clock
the day lying in wait for me
like Apollo Creed
mocking
chanting
you got anything else, suckah?

the story of my life

am I Rocky
or just another bum?

dunno...
but I'll go down swingin'
either way

so cue the music
I'm about to hit the streets again
little kids
and dogs who want a piece of me
tagging behind

I move twice as fast
when I hear a siren in the background
a conditioned reflex
from the teenage years

seizing the day
before some body part
seizes up 

fightin' the good fight 
and Apollo is wrong...

cuz I ain't goin' down

Thursday, May 18, 2017

COUCH TOMATO




I once met a psychiatrist
on a blind date
and as we sat there
with our drinks
I tried to see what was in her eyes
and what they revealed about
what she was thinking about
me

but as it turned out
she liked me
and wanted to see me again
and I went round and round
in my head about that
as in if we started up with each other
would she be constantly psychoanalyzing me
(why should I care if it's free?)

but in the end I decided I'd feel
too self-conscious in that scenario

which is weird cuz
it was all the rest of 'em
who tried to analyze me
more than she ever would have
and to this day
I know they think
they had me all figured out

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

DAY AT THE PARK


From your soapbox
you're out to save the world
your words echoing
through the park
vying with bouncy
norteno tunes blasting from
low rider car stereos

your nebulous forever
built upon a city of hope
hope against hope
when you're dangling
at the end of a rope

but what if I told you
that everything thing we do
is motivated by either
love
or
fear
and that we can easily choose
between them

and that you stem from a long line
of fear mongers
over generations
and generations
of fear mongers
spitting incendiary words
into the air
the fire and brimstone
heating everyone under the tent
into a frenzy of believing

and giving

but material gain has naught to do
with the hereafter
it's has to do with the here and now
and that house upon the hill

and your aim is to be
that guy on Sunday morning TV
sayin' keep those cards and letters
comin' in folks
cuz it takes a lot of jack
to buy the stairway to heaven

so the plate is comin' round
folks
the plate is comin' round
(what's in your wallet?)

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

HARD



It's getting harder to find...

someone who isn't twenty

has half a brain

has an attention span of more than 10 seconds


It's getting harder to find... 

someone who can name one former president
besides George Lincoln and Abraham Washington

who won't call you "honey" at the checkout line

who remembers what I just said even if I can't


It's getting harder to find...

someone who can use
to
too
two
properly in a sentence

who hasn't been spotted at Wal-Mart
with a way too outrageous Brazilian butt lift
the cost of which has consigned them to 
meander those aisles for the rest of eternity

who can write a line like
"I'm blessed and I didn't even sneeze"

if U can write a line like that then 
drop 
me 

line
or 
too

otherwise Dumb and Dumber To
is playing down the street...

see U at the movies

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

GUSHER








You think this is all
random
but even slot machines
are programmed
to spill their guts
at predetermined intervals...

the only truly random thing
is the poet
and his muse
and when that gusher
may be gettin' ready to blow

so stand back
ladies and gentlemen
because there's one now
(you can spot him by that
 tormented look in his eye)

as we move within range
it's advised that you prudently
cover your heads

we have pith helmets for sale
in the gift shop



Thursday, April 6, 2017

ALTERNATE EXPLANATION



That roach on the bathroom floor
was flat on its back
so I figured it was fixin' to die
(not always the case with humans similarly positioned
with a randy look in their eye)

respecting its process
(I've read Kafka)
I left it in peace
figuring tomorrow I'd give it
a proper burial
after dark
in the neighbor's yard

but when I went in there
it had up and disappeared
apparently righting itself
at some point
and hauling ass
which told me something
after I thought about it
'bout never counting anyone out
even when it looks to you
like the fat lady's opening her mouth...
it could just be you know
she's gonna stuff another donut in there

there is
of course
the alternate explanation...

the cat ate it


Tuesday, April 4, 2017

ALL THIS WAY







Imaginary Garden With Real Toads











A birthday boy's tendency
is to replay everything
against the purples
and pistachios of spring

The little white lies
from another time

The past receding
like the ass-end of a train
from which you've just disembarked

Ancient phrases
inside another eternity
and of no import now
the greater truths ignored
for sake of our little tete a tetes

Today I ponder the world's disasters
the worst of which is adding another digit
to that chronological catastrophe
I fondly refer to as me

Everyone gets  a raw deal
and still the clouds roll by 

Coming all this way
drifting across the cosmos
with these inconvenient truths 
on these afternoons without angels
and still we stand
in anticipation of one extraordinary love

Having experienced the moon
in a myriad of exotic positions
I unmask poems
of barking cats
and rats
and elephants
and stand revealed 
to lonesome applause

Waiting for Santa Claus
I blaspheme and bubble
in the center of all infinity
as I bend to softly kiss you
and the world becomes 
my oyster
and you're my clam

Let's go to Amsterdam



From my poetry and short story collection: Last Tango In Timbuktu

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

PARDON MY FRENCH


Sometimes, for politeness sake
(or goodness sake)
I try to come up with a euphemism
for the "F" word
but nothing seems to fit
(pardon the pun)


I've tried fu*k
but that smacks too much
of the hand of a censor for my tastes

There's fugg 
(as in "muddah fugga")
but that's a little too street
and I can't claim a lotta street cred
(though I've slept there a time or two)

Then there's fook
a bit too British, old chap
("put that fooking thing down
before you hurt yourself!")

And a myriad of old standbys

frig...frick...fock...
(Meet The Fockers--wink wink)
which have become so common
in the vernacular
they've lost all impact
(or should I say thrust?)

You could say it in French (baise)

and sound totally innocuous
on this side of the pond
(but not in the company of 
anyone wearing a Rasberry Beret).

Yep, try as I may

I've not found a good one
seems it can't be polite
and totally effective at the same time 
(a nugget for everyday living? )

So I guess I'll just say fuck it

and leave it at that

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

GOLDEN





Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub




On a sun-splashed day
in a desert 
where the Horse With No Name
made his claim to fame

With spring making overtures

like a punch-drunk lover

I saw her

in my mind's eye
I heard her
in my mind's ear
I contemplated her
in my mind's belly button

Behold The Vagabond Princess

electric rays sparking 
from the tips of her golden hair
she's been there
and back
on a beach with some name
And all because sunshine came
softly through her window that day

Swaying to the beat

of a distant drummer
her gaze is locked on summer

A painted man

walks down the street
blowing bubbles out his ears

How does he do that?


The world is a wondrous

and magical place to be...

The answer blowing

in the tail winds
that are bringing her to me 

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

MILLICENT BEGINS THE MONUMENTAL TASK OF DICTATING HER MEMOIR



(A revised version of one that appeared a few years back. Enjoy!)



OH, BUZZARD SHIT
she said, with a wink
and a drink in her hand.

I knew Marilyn when

she was still a brunette.

I boinked so many famous men

there's no keeping track.

It wasn't notches on your gun

back then...
nothing like that.

They were all indiscretions.

You either gave in...
 or you didn't.

Some guilt?

Sure.
But you did it for love.
Every time.

That's the difference 

between then and now.

BUZZARD SHIT

she said with a start, 
momentarily nodding off--
her gin and tonic slipping
from her fingers
to the floor,
seeping  into the
wine-colored carpet.

It only lasts for as long
as there's a twinkle in his eye...
get that down...
a twinkle...in... his...

And she is out

down for the count
and done for the day.

It's a beginning.