Friday, May 4, 2018


Lengthy verse (more than 100 lines or so)
bores me to tears. Just make your
point suckah, and admit that you are
a novelist at heart. And haiku, 
while so tasty and perfect for our
ADD world, is the Chinese 
food of poetry. You're ravenous again 
shortly afterward. So I'm going to 
feed you a light lunch to tide you over. 
Let's's about me (isn't it always?)

I'm wasting away in the bar of a 

hotel (you could call it seedy)
when a woman slides 
onto the stool next to me.
Maybe she's a hooker.
Maybe she isn't. But we end up 
getting a room and afterwards 
as we light the proverbial fags 
(I don't smoke but it's necessary 
to the atmosphere of the story)
we begin sharing details of our 
personal lives and lo and behold 
it turns out that she's my long 
lost sister! I look her square 
in the eye and say that I don't
regret a thing. She says well
she does regret one thing 
and I say what's that and 
she says it's that now you're
prolly not going to pay me!

Tuesday, May 1, 2018


Did U ever think about why
Officer Smith gets a lavish
send off--a showy parade provided
for by your tax dollars
when he falls in the line of duty?
I do, and I'm not saying he doesn't
deserve the proper respect,
such a risky job...
but then we have Tyrone Smith
over here (no relation)
who was charged with an
equally harrowing task--
that of driving himself to the
store and back without getting
pulled over for not employing his
turn signal, and if he made 
one wrong move 
that could have easily been
curtains for him too--
and ya see Tyrone was just
laid to rest in a pauper's
grave with no fanfare,
no crowds lining the streets
as the cavalcade of motorcycles
files by, and it makes you think--
well maybe not you--
but it makes me wonder about
why that is, and there's no other
reason of course than
authority must have its due...
authority must always have its due. 


Tuesday, April 24, 2018


Those who love
fiercely and
often find themselves
or so it may seem
as opposed to those who
for what presents itself
as a long-term solution
to solitude
which one who loves 
eventually learns
is the long-term solution 
(many) wrongs
not making a right 

Monday, April 16, 2018



I've taken to writing my grocery lists
on the backs of my business cards
(I make better use of them that way)
and if I should happen to forget
and hand one out
at least the recipient knows the answer 
to the age-old question of
What's for dinner?

And how one longs for the days when

the man in aisle 5 talking to himself
was just your garden variety crazy
person and not some pussy-whipped
hubby taking orders from headquarters or
some Russian spy 
reporting to the White House


The highest office 

for sale
to the lowest bidder 
while Joe Six-Pack grows so 
worshiping flags
he's lost sight of the 
Grand Poobah
who transcends all this tribalism 

but even God knows

He's less sacred than


We gather by the river...

we're not praying

we're just wading in
and peeing 


There's another kind of pollution

it is of the mind
it's seeped into the water supply
it's in the drinking water
it makes you paranoid 
to the point of nothing and
no one can be trusted
not even your own 


you strongly suspect she's a
crisis actor on her days off
from the waffle house

the next stop for you is 

The Walking Dead


I will admit it's getting

harder to identify
the good guys
it used to be so easy
they were the ones with
the white hats


There's a deranged man

who shambles down my street
in the mornings
Take that shit to Valhalla!
while tugging on his crotch 

I feel that he's in contact
with unseen spirits
who know exactly what he's
talking about
but as for me
I wrack my brain daily
sifting through possible meanings

I know one day
that same flash of illumination
will arrive for me
being fully aware
that to get there
I'll have to follow
in his footsteps 

Sunday, April 8, 2018


And if your life starts out
Like crap
There's no need to panic
Cuz you can hit your stride
A little farther 
Down the line

I'm Exhibit A...

But if your song starts out

Like crap
Like some rap crap
That ain't got no melody
That can only find the beat
But not the beauty 
Then I'm outta here
Cuz that same ol' song and dance
Won't cut it 
Lessin' you're MJ resurrected
On a Sunday morning
Doin' the moonwalk 
On this planet badly in need of a miracle
Or Rita Hayworth in that silky black
Excuse for a dress 
Running like a watercolor in the rain 
Or even Eddie Money wailin'
If I Could Walk On Water 

Could use that miracle now
You betcha

Keepin' the spirit alive

And holdin' on 

Tuesday, April 3, 2018


You bloated pig
wallowing in the ooze
of your own excess
while that anthem rings
through every coliseum  
across the land
so morbidly obese
you can't even stand for it
in decent fashion anymore
that's alright
don't bother
cuz  you've already shat upon
all you once held dear
(let's start with the word integrity)
but traded for a seat at the circus
clowns to the left
jokers to the right
hope you like 
the freak show

bread and circuses

for the (m)asses

Tuesday, March 27, 2018


Once again he's ignored 
the Steely admonition
not to go for that cotton candy
the kid will live 
not learn
as his ship of state burns
(Deep Purple's "Smoke On The Water"
 in the background)
heading straight for that looming
thing ahead 

His little Engine That Could 

having jumped the tracks 
way back in New Jersey
keeps plowing ahead 
through the shit fields of time 
out of 

So let's go downtown

and find out where 
The Mikado is playing 
I need some color
in these grey days
rapidly fading to black 

Put on a grand show

cuz I need you 
to take me for that ride
to fool me again
and in the end
pretend again
that I'm surprised

Tuesday, March 20, 2018


I know secrets
tucked away in perpetuity
that are too dangerous for the world 
to reveal

and so do you

I wonder whose secrets
would make the world
blow up faster...

yours or mine?

Monday, March 12, 2018


It is mid morning
and some salesmonkey in Mississippi
is ringing my number
ignoring the grave warnings 
in my voice greeting

someone on the telly
implores me repeatedly
to ask my doctor about
and the shopping aisles
are lined with friendly reminders
to get my flu shot

they're trying to kill me at every turn

so I'm off to do my power walk
and as the plague spreads across Sweden
I believe only in garlic
and apple cider vinegar
and beets
and in the end
like James Coburn
I believe only in dynamite

and you're still hot and heavy
for a man from your past who was
arrogant and insensitive to your feelings
a quasi musician with no real ambition
(I've read the private thoughts of so many 
so please don't feel singled out)
and I remember the night she said:
how DARE you invade my mind like that!


my ancestors were Vikings

we live in constant dread

like quail scurrying across open spaces 

time runs down

till time runs out
and in the end
we're all just looking for something
that's more enduring than we are 

Tuesday, March 6, 2018


Stop looking for the
pretty word
and start looking for the
relevant one
there are so many pretty words
blocking the sun
and the cold light of day
I'm 'bout to choke on the perfume

get over the sweet sickness
of wanting to make pretty words
and come to your senses
there are five of them
(six if you ask Bruce Willis)
and you can use them all
do ya hear me?
do ya see what I'm sayin?
are ya sniffin' out my meaning?
you can almost taste it now, right?

(has this touched you in any way?)

cuz nobody writes like you
when you sayin' things that have a meaning
and not just a sound
nobody else can do it
egg-zachly like you
and that's the beauty of it, pardner
right there