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Tuesday, December 12, 2017

COSMIC JOKE

An encore presentation that speaks to our times

The point
is not to point out
this injustice
or that
and rail
and wail
and flail
or send those angry missives
through the mail
have at it if it floats your
rubber ducky
if it makes you feel better
 to care
just be aware
that injustice is EVERYWHERE
you haven't been singled out
(snort some o' this up your snout)
be a fundamentalist
if it turns your crank
let the preacher take
your money to the bank
you're still missing
the fundamental point
that this world we've created
you and me
is a topsy-turvy
absurdity
a game one can only win
if not taken seriously
that sounds like a contradiction
(now you're getting warm)
you don't react to absurdity
you don't respond to insanity
with a jerk of the knee
just laugh along
with the other inmates
of the asylum
who've discovered the
cosmic joke
play the game
for all you're worth
but don't take a life
or give your life
(settle down with your wife)
this cheaply
alone in your room at night
putting together that explosive device
and when you've blown yourself
the hell off the planet
and your soul is streaking
back to that place of
clarity and light
you'll say oh you
stupid
silly
sonofabitch
you fell for it again
and all because
you missed the point
of the game
which is simply to remember
that you're playing one
and that later on we'll all have
a good laugh together
and go back
Jack
and do it again











Tuesday, November 28, 2017

THE STRAIGHT POOP



If you got outta bed
this morning
you're an optimist
plain and simple
otherwise why would you?

I mean really
you're getting ready
to do your thing
goin' to work
goin' to play
goin' to get drunk 
and the sun is shining
and the birds are tweeting
( many of them have Twitter accounts)
and you just don't think about
how it can all turn to
shit
without a moment's notice
like the snap of your fingers

We live in denial
about the true nature of life
and the turning to shit factor
we just get up every day
and figure that everything
is gonna be fine
but then circumstances
beyond your control
and that's really the key
beyond your control
kick in 
and you stand there
shell-shocked
reassessing everything 
you poor pathetic 
asshole

What did I do wrong?

Well it was nothing
try to understand that it was
nothing
it's just your turn
in the barrel
and everybody gets his turn
cuz we're all here to learn

And that's really when 
it hits you
that you gotta be brave
that you gotta find meaning
when all the evidence points to
a universe as cold
as a witch's left tit  

And so you wrack your brain 
with the question...

What da fuck 
what da fuck
what da fuck
do I do now?

Don't worry Bunky...
you'll 
think 
of 
something

Climbing out of bed is the first step

Sunday, November 19, 2017

GOD BLESS



3 a.m. on a Sunday
and I'm tradin' sleep for a poem

thinking 'bout all the folks
who will don their Sunday finery
to hang out in a pew
with you and you and you
and you
still don't get it
that your soul is immortal
and not in need of savin'

but sure
I get it
it's a sense of comm
unity
we gather together to ask 
the Lord's blessing

and even though I'm fallin' apart
in my decrepitude
I'm good to go with all of that
don't feel the need
cuz a coupla peeps singing loudly off key
on either side of me
isn't exactly what I call "inspirational"

having said all that
I'll admit I've prayed before
but it's always been 
a white-knuckled
get me out of this freakin' jam
kinda thing 
and by god 
somehow...
somehow...

so let me say that if you don't feel 
a connection
with something larger than
your own ego
whatever you wanna call it
then I have to wonder about ya
as in how did you miss it?
(ah--your head was buried in your phone!)

Goddamn...

my pen is running out of ink
so I guess I'll close for now
but it's been nice chatting with you
and if you don't mind 
I'd rather not ruin my reputation
so let's just keep all this
between you and me

God bless

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

THIS THING



Sometimes

something is there
waiting for you

you don't know what it is
you have to see it
touch it
smell it

you have to find out
what it is
and what it's going to do
to you
or for you

you won't know that until you
see it
touch it
smell it

and even then you will likely
have only a clue

you have to
play with it
let it touch you back

gah damn
what is it?
how did I find it?

you didn't
it was just there
waiting for you
though you may have walked
by it a thousand times before
head buried in your phone
(read butt)
never realizing it was for you
just for you

or that this thing
you don't know what to make of
if you caress it
and nurture it
and let it grow
might just be able to show
you the way
 to a new beginning



Tuesday, November 7, 2017

IN PRAISE OF LONELINESS





Easy come
easy go
I've watched the parade
march in and out my door
the flute players
and the drummers
the only thing they share
in common
is their transience

while I play the silent monolith
stoic
with eyes that must
not water

I see the couples
when I'm out and about
so many of them look
mismatched to me
but at least they've got something
(a roll of fat maybe)
to hang onto through the night

been in that comfortable rut
before
and a comfortable rut
is still a rut
with
ironically
less and less rutting
taking place
as time goes by

does it matter
which life you choose
when there's no way to win?

but

the one thing I've learned
and maybe I'm "lucky"
in that respect
is that pain
is the only way
to feel truly alive



Tuesday, October 24, 2017

MAKING HAY

An encore presentation from a couple years back. If you ain't seen it, enjoy. If you've seen it, enjoy.



I'd like to be mysterious
like some I see who never
respond to comments
but just let you wonder who they are
behind the brilliance of their pen
and though my heart is not exactly splayed
upon my sleeve
it's still up there somewhere
waiting to be played


I'd like to lead a hard life
in the Appalachians
and see what kind of verse would
well up from my underground
all blackened and irredeemable
like a coal miner's fingers

I'd like to freeze my ass off
on the ski slopes
somewhere in the Rockies
and then warm it next to the fire
in the lodge with the sound of
tinkling glasses and laughter

Someone said that a poet
is a whole world
inside of one person
choose your words
and your worlds carefully

But then there is me

I'd like to be the proverbial
traveling salesman making hay
with the farmer's daughter

And I can hear you say
I KNEW something like that
was going to come out of you

That's exactly what she said too



Tuesday, October 3, 2017

BETWEEN THE LINES



Hey
I dunno how to tell you this
but your poem sucks
and so do you

Ha ha
you know I'm kidding, right?
I'm a real kidder, ya know

Oh, and that souffle you made
the other night for the potluck
you BURNT it
and it tasted like shit!

Aw...go on...you know me...
it was DELICIOUS

And while we're at it
I've been meaning to mention that
YOU
have been outlasting your
DEODORANT
if you get what I mean

Ha ha
oh man
I'm such a kidder
a regular Don Rickles in cheap clothing

You know you always smell like a rose

Anyway
great to see you
and hey (whispering in ear)
don't let this get out but...

Your poem sucks
and so do you!
(ha ha)


Tuesday, September 19, 2017

POOP SOUP

Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub









An oldie but goodie! When I read something from a few years back (that YOU probably haven't seen) and I'm cracking myself up again, I say: This one deserves another turn in the spotlight!


ONE

I see...

a home
where the buffalo roam
no more

I see...

a land stained
by the blood
of conquest

I see...

a gypsy palm reader
spitting on your hand--
you spit in her face

I see...

you at the theatre
with your head buried
in your iPhone
for most of the movie
but anyone can see
it's really up your butt

I see...

you incurring substantial debt
for the purchase of material items
that the recipient will neither welcome
nor appreciate
and that is called The Holidays

I see...

You being trampled to death
at a large department store
on Black Friday


TWO

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned...
I wore white after Labor Day
it was kind of an off-white
so I thought it might be alright
no one in my ghetto
seemed to care

Such pretense
when our prehensile tails
are not that far removed

clackety-clack
don't look back

And now Ladies and gentlewomen
here to sing a medley of his most DEPRESSING hits,
the ever maudlin... JOSH GROBAN!

(song playing)

Announcer: We interrupt this song to bring you a news flash...a young woman, listening to our station, has just jumped off her 16th story balcony!


happy
sad
happy
sad
happy happy
sad sad
happyhappyhappy
sadsadsad
the world is bi-polar

(That's north and south, for you geography majors!)

hum dee dum
ya lousy bum


THREE

1st man: Hello, my name is Fu Chow.
2nd man: Pleased to meet you. My name is Egg Foo Yong.
1st man: Yes, I have heard of you...people say that you are a good Egg.


And now, the new craze that's sweeping the nation...SAINT VITUS DANCE!

Round and around
and around and around
and around we go

Take your anti-depressants,
America,
but don't forget the increased
risk of suicide...

EXCUSE ME
but hasn't anyone noticed
that's the exact OPPOSITE
of the intended effect?


Looking for the quick fix
has put us in quite a fix

(Spit on the drug addict
while deluding yourself
that your chain smoking
isn't the exact same thing)


You're listening to Radio KSUK...all Josh Groban--ALL the time...that's right, America, we're JOSHING you 24 hours a day!

(song playing)

We interrupt this song to bring you a special news bulletin...no basketball players were charged with killing any hookers today...


And you wonder why
you have A.D.D.
America,
when there's a commercial

break

every five minutes


Capitalism could have worked
were it not for the
inherent
incessant
need for MORE MORE MORE
built into the human psyche

So go ahead and anoint
your sports teams
as WORLD champions
when no outside teams participated...

You will always be the Earth
that the sun revolves around
until it draws close enough
to consume you in its fire


THIS MIND LEFT INTENTIONALLY BLANK









Tuesday, September 12, 2017

GOODBYE IRMA (HELLO DOLLY)


bummer
in da summer
and you think it's all been
engineered
in some form
or fashion
don't you?

while one faction (the "Evil Ones")
grows more intelligent
to the point where they can
manufacture a monster storm
and pinpoint it to destroy countless lives
as a form of population control
(or so you say)
and another side grows stupider
rarin' to drag us back to the middle ages
when the earth was flat
(but you still loved your cat)

you know what
I'll take all of your theories
with a jumbo shaker of salt...
still more inclined to believe that
MOTHER
holds dominion over a

chest thumping
war mongering
glorified ape

who'd like to think
he's that smart
and that powerful
but can't explain
(as he gazes
somewhat distractedly
out the corner of his eye)
why his world
is turning inexorably
to shit

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

NOW I AM YOURS



I squeezed a peach
at the market
to size up its suitability
and then began to move on to another
when I heard it say
STOP
you have taken liberties with me
and it was true
I had fondled it 
excessively

it said

now I am yours
take me home and eat me
and I thought
how callous one would be
to refuse a plea such as that
from just about...
anyone
I guess

so I put the peach in my bag

and took it home
and now I am waiting
for just the right moment
to consummate our  relationship

(I know it's going to be juicy)


all actions

no matter how trivial
we may perceive them to be
have meaning
all actions have a resonating effect

keep this in mind

and somewhere
sometime
a butterfly
may thank you

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

OPEN WINDOW













From my book: DARWIN'S MOON

the cars
rumble past
and from their
open windows
you hear cackling
or cussing
or some kind
of rap crap
an angry young man
shoutin' bout
bitches and hos
with his finger up his nose
I'm tired of hearing
the angry young man
through your open window
don't care if he's black
or white
I've been that guy
the rallies
and the marches
righteous indignation
like you wouldn't believe
students commandeering
the dean's office
and getting dragged
out by their heels
do you know
how that feels?
there was Haldeman
Erlichman
and Dean
and student bodies
lying dead
on the campus green
hey
at least we stood
for something
besides gangsta worship
all the angry young men
who don't know
what they're mad about
every generation sees
them come and go
you don't live
in the ghetto
and the only thing
you have
to complain about
is your pants
are falling down
and I'm tired
of hearing the
angry young man
railing
through your open window
you think you've got
something to prove
but in truth
you've got nothing to lose
but your youth
so convinced
that you'll always be
the malcontent
but I'll tell you what
it all comes to naught
and a house
in the suburbs
in the end


Tuesday, August 8, 2017

MILO, THE SHIT BIRD



Oh SHIT, man!" said Jerry. "Something just went SPLAT on top o' my head."

Ben looked up. He heard the flutter of wings and a strange otherworldly cackle.

Jerry said, "What the hell was that, man?"

Ben stared at him, deadpan. "I think you've just been hit by Milo, The Shit Bird."

"Milo The Shit Bird...wha-?"

Ben fished around inside his lunch pail to find a paper napkin for  Jerry--the glob of excrement perched atop his buddy's hair growing more pungent by the moment. "He's legendary in this neighborhood. I know the people who used to own him. He's a Myna bird...they kept him in a cage most of the time, and he made it clear to them he wasn't happy with that arrangement. Then one day when they were cleaning his cage, he saw his path to freedom. Took off out the front door that had been left partially open. Ever since, folks around here have reported that they've been crapped on out of the blue--literally out of the blue--because he hovers over them and then it's bombs away, like he was the Enola Gay or something."

 "Geez," said Jerry, who was a poet. "That's kinda poetic justice. Taking it out on random people. He sees them as the oppressor."

"There's some inspiration for you, Jer," said Ben. "You could immortalize Milo, The Shit Bird in a poem."

"It is poetic when you think about it, man. We keep animals in cages. And because we think that's all right, we put people in cages too. Rather than, you know, trying to heal them."

"Sounds like you want to write about-"

"Man's inhumanity to man."

That's a deep subject, but if anybody can pull it off, you can."

Jerry had just about finished wiping the poo out of his hair when the two of them heard the flutter of wings again in the tree they were perched beneath under the noonday desert sun. And before Jerry could duck out of the way...

SPLAT!

Milo, The Shit Bird had struck again. This time the cackling they'd heard before was accompanied by: squawk...ASSHOLE...ASSHOLE...squawk !

"Jesus H. Christ!" Jerry cried. "Why'd he pick on me...TWICE?"

Ben had to stifle a laugh. "He knows your a poet, dude. He knows you're sympathetic to his plight. The only one who could put into words what many of the rest of us are thinking. Poets have started REVOLUTIONS, man!"

Jerry rubbed his stubbled chin, lost in contemplation. 

Ben glanced at his watch. "Guess we better be gettin' back to work, and find you some shampoo and a faucet to stick your head under."

"Geez," said Jerry. "That kinda puts into perspective what my real job is..."

 Ben closed up his lunch pail and gazed into the vast blue sky--the place where epiphanies that hit you like a water balloon chucked by some nasty middle school kids on a rooftop come from. He started off across the park. He turned back to see Jerry looking pensive and glassy-eyed. "You comin' man? he said. 

"Yeah...sure...I'll be along. I just got a lotta shit on my mind."

"Yes, my friend, I CAN SEE THAT!" 

"The world will know the saga of Milo, The Shit Bird!  First, an epic poem, then a children's book..."

Jerry was prancing around, shouting into the wind. Though just downwind of him was where you really didn't want to be. 











Tuesday, August 1, 2017

ZIGZAG



No tracks within a good
ten miles of here
but on a misty morn
that horn
is ridin' the breeze
cutting through my brain fog
it echoes
like the call of the wild
from back in the day

I shouldn't have switched on the TV 
cuz some Trumpster shill
is telling Martha Radditz 
who the "normal" Americans are
pretty sure Caitlyn isn't on his list

I traveled all this way 
doin' the transcontinental zigzag
just to end up in a world where
transgender crappers 
would be the hot button of the day 

you can be 
whatever you wanna be
on the inside
the outside's just a shell
that we tortoises use
to deflect the rain 

(and I don't know who I am
but life is for learnin')

so when I present the idea 
of trans-racial
I'm sayin' it's not a bridge too far
cuz we am what we am
and we are what we are

not the same as mixed blood
it means starting out identifying
as one ethnicity 
but waking up one day to realize
that in your heart 
you are something else

never knew why I always wanted
to jump out of this pale skin
til I ran into the lost ones (who
like the Indians Columbus encountered
were never lost to themselves and thus
had no need of being "discovered")
and found there was Cherokee blood
from grandma 

the most captivating woman 
at age 32
I've ever seen 
her eyes foretold me
foreshadowed the coming 
of the little bastard
and one by one the pieces
began to fall into place...

a half-bro
who is half Hispanic
all the time spent 
south of the border
and in the Caribbean 
where I saw a way of life 
that was impervious to sorrow
whenever a street band would play
and knew so strong in my gut
that it was a part of me
and always had been

how my paths zigzagged
and crisscrossed
like an etch-a-sketch sky
spinning round so fast sometimes
I met myself speeding in the other direction

I'm not what I appear to be 
bro
though you would never know

and now I'm reading Sherman Alexie
who says that Indians seldom travel
in a straight line

not even the Crows



   


Saturday, July 22, 2017

NO QUESTIONS ASKED



Bet U didn't think about
why you're with
U-NO-HOO
today
and betcha didn't reflect on why
you're even with
U-NO-HOO
yesterday either
maybe U thought about it
way back when for a bit
but hey U got some
body
and so U do it by rote
cuz some
body
is better than no
body
right?

maybe

me
I don't need no
body
just to have some
body
around

but if I ever do
I'll dig up the one
that's in the back yard

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

SERVE AND PROTECT



Apartheid never ended 
here in A-me-rica
it just got more subtle
the arbitrary traffic stop
for the flickering tail light
that quickly escalates 
into life or death
is payback for your sipping 
from the wrong water fountain
for lo these many years now...

and a sympathetic jury of his peers
from kin-dee-garden on
trained to revere and respect 
the badge 
the uniform
the flag
and indeed any symbol of authority
under any and all circumstances
likely as not will let him off
if he remembers to say those magic words
I feared for my life

and if someday he should fall
in the line of duty
a huge parade will escort him
to his final resting place
yes 
give him his due
he laid it on the line each and every day
to serve and protect

though here in A-me-rica
the dark-skinned man
who gets in his car
drives to the store
just to get some milk for his babies
may have the riskiest job of all

where's the parade? 

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE



It started with Madonna
now it's monkey see
monkey do
follow the formula
it's tried and true

And the law of the jungle
comes down from on high
in 140 characters
each day
(but it's beneath...the planet of the apes)

did u get a bad rap
or are u just a bad rapper?

it's still up to us to decide
what is cultural
and what is just plain crass

and the next Madonna wannabe
is up on your big screen
twerking her ass 
in your face
and somebody is calling it art
and that's what's wrong
with your generation 
right there

when nobody has the stones
to stand up and shout
who choreographs this shit???

we dunno 
but he's putting together
the halftime show for the Super Bowl!

one day
with the world awash in rainbows
our true colors will shine
until then
to go on for a bit
even in the face of
mindless 
primal
mediocrity
seems reasonable

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

THE TICKET



Henry Miller went hungry a lot
in Paris
but he fed enough blood
to his bitte
to summon command performances
on a regular basis

you can't gain an advantage
by lining up in the neutral zone

show me something
I haven't seen 
like Tilda Swinton's tit
flashed in a movie
I can't remember the name of
but it was good
(partially because of that)

what if everyone woke up at the same time?
(think of all the pancakes that would have to be made)

try
not to get too high
or too low
as they are both impostors

impermanent states of mind
that come and go
come and go
like the shifting breeze


the middle path
slow and steady as she goes
( occasional detours into the gutter allowed)
that's the ticket

Sunday, June 18, 2017

FULL FRONTAL LONELY




1.

You think that you've written down
the thoughts
that were lonelier
than all the thoughts
that were written down before you
or after you
but you are wrong



2.

I'm reading some poems by Jewel
(don't smirk--she's "intriguing")

I am told

I'm adored by millions
but no one calls

and one can only think
then...
what chance have I?



3.

Poets never say what they mean
they just expect you to figure it out



4.

Maybe
that's why you're alone
(even in a crowd)
as they've all given up 
on trying to figure you out



5.

Opaque
isn't that intriguing
to those who are searching
for the light



6.

 James Wright always told you
what his poem was about
right up front in the title...
he shared that trait with Degas
who would do a painting of
a dancer in front of a window
and name it "Dancer In Front Of A Window"


7.

While I sit lonely
by a fountain
where naked cherubs
are pissing away my dreams
knowing that collaborationists
stalk their own shadows
while pigeons goose-step
through the square--
but none can tell you whether ghosts
sit up and listen to the footsteps
that echo through an empty museum 



8.

And maybe if you search and search
you can find another poet
who has described the human condition as
full frontal lonely
but I'd like to think that one
is all my own


9.

And I am alone
as you are alone
as we are alone
imprisoned within these shells
straining to touch palms
through the glass



10.

...I have my books
and my poetry to protect me...

what I did
what I didn't
truly of no import now

after falter
before correction 
the man who seeks to make connection
finds the days of infinite possibility have flown
but only because a world turned deaf
and blind has deemed it so

the ego

in its fatal attraction to the body 
must always lose


11.

There now
no more whimpering
face it like The Man
monolithic in his solitude
as all mill about like ants
resigned to his fate
to go out in a blaze of glory
lighting up the desert sky
on a Saturday night
on a spinning blue pelota
somewhere
lost in space

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

AT LONG LAST



I like women
who write like men
and men who write
like women

somewhere in the middle

they meet
in a smoky androgynous haze
where they size 
(and feel)
each other up
coming
at long last
to their defining moment
with no compulsion
for going under the knife 






Tuesday, June 6, 2017

HIGH SCHOOL YEARBOOK



Some look
really geeky

some look
really dorky

and a few
so arrogantly
self-assured

but I was there
and I know
that was whistling
through the graveyard

Tuesday, May 30, 2017



DOOMED GIRLS

sit
right up at the bar
where they can be noticed

doomed girls
ride
on the backs of shiny hogs
with their arms wrapped snugly
around his waist

doomed girls
haven't spoken to their moms
since forever
and don't know why

doomed girls
are still trying to get their kids back

doomed girls
find work as babysitters

doomed girls have stacks of  presents waiting
for when their kids come home for good
someday

doomed girls
are determined to quit smoking
someday

doomed girls are going to take
that Mediterranean cruise
someday

doomed girls
place their hands over their hearts
at baseball games

doomed girls
are loyal to a fault

doomed girls
are always making excuses for him

doomed girls
don't know when to shut up

doomed girls say
"I walked into a door" a lot

doomed girls know
it's always their fault

doomed girls
have visions of finding that nice guy
a little too late

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