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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