Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Monday, May 11, 2015
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
While strolling about the county fair
that fading American tradition
more reminiscent of bygone days when
folks still believed the games weren't rigged
and the outcome not a foregone conclusion
the wafting odors from myriad booths
hawking fast and greasy food,
the blaring of a country song that goes
"Jack Daniels kicked my ass last night"
the undulating belly dancers onstage
being viewed by scattered patrons
resting weary legs on foldout metal chairs,
I spotted a sign that read
ARE YOU GOING TO HEAVEN?
FIND OUT FREE (by answering two brief quiz questions)
and I stood there slack-jawed gazing at
a line of people who were willing to bite on it,
and then moved on, figuring smugly
I knew pretty much what that was going to be about,
but then got to thinking
if all the poets and philosophers
down through the ages
who had ruminated on that very question
could be here now...I mean, who knew
that two crusty-lookin' dudes in cowboy hats
in a booth at the county fair would hold the key--
the definitive answer for every soul
in attendance on a personal basis...
(The Lord works in mysterious ways)
it boggles the mind,
it truly does,
and stupid me,
I walked away without finding out.
Monday, May 4, 2015
By now you have discovered
much to your chagrin
that there are no virgins--
only Joan Rivers
(far from what you had imagined)
and you are trapped with her
inside this little room
where she is telling you
every rude and biting one-liner
she ever came up with
on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on
if need be
until one day
a light will switch on
inside your head
and you will grin from ear to ear
at long long long long long long long long long long long long
as you are finally beginning to grasp
The Cosmic Joke
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
meaningful social change
has always been accompanied
by great upheaval
doesn't seem to effectively
gain the attention of those
entrenched in the
arrogance of power
from Bunker Hill
to Kent State
the pattern has always been the same
(the voice of the people)
fall upon deaf ears
the decibel level must be increased
to a level that may cause sharp pain
in the eardrum
to a level that will make them turn
and glare at you
like an angry parent
and say at long last
WHAT THE FUCK IS IT YOU WANT?
Saturday, April 25, 2015
WAVING AT THE WIND
Now you may think me daffy
and ripe for the loony bin
but I see women
walking through walls
and waving at the wind
On the other side
I asked her
if she might be inclined
to show me how she does it
before I lose my mind
She said uh uh
you can't do it
I hate to spoil your fun
but my head is harder than yours
and that's just how it's done
sometimes I sit up late at night
and o'er her words I mull
'bout the vagaries of the sexes
and the thickness of one's skull
my life's the same
I'd have to say
'cept for downing a spot of gin
when I see those women
walking through walls
and waving at the wind
Saturday, April 18, 2015
It has come to my attention
as it does from time to time
that I'm much fonder of plot driven
narrative than characterization that goes
on and on and on and on and on and on
and in the end what are you left with
but the same pathetic slob you met in the beginning
in the same place in his life
only he's had some slight epiphany
like all of the postmodern gunk
I used to wade through
hoping against hope
that SOMETHING would happen
but in the end it just ends
and you're left feeling cheated
the way you feel
at the end of a love affair
cuz in the end that's just how it ends
up in the air
so why do we always want more than
riding off into the sunset
everything neat and tidy
just give me something messy
The Big Bang will do fine
and I'll keep myself busy
picking up the pieces
Anyway here's what I made away with from my most
recent excursion to the public library's used book sale:
THE PARIS REVIEW BOOK OF HEARTBREAK,
MADNESS, SEX, LOVE, BETRAYAL, OUTSIDERS,
INTOXICATION, WAR, WHIMSY, HORRORS,
GOD, DEATH, DINNER, BASEBALL, TRAVELS
THE ART OF WRITING, AND EVERYTHING ELSE
IN THE WORLD SINCE 1953 (and that is the title)
750 pages for a damn buck
and there's Updike
and Stanley Elkin
whom I've always liked
just to name a few
and did you know that John Updike has a poem called
"Two Cunts In Paris"
and I also picked up Leslie Marmon Silko's Almanac Of The Dead
Stephen King's The Long Walk (lotta dead folks in there too)
and Ian McEwan's Saturday (which I finished on a Monday)
and God I swear that plot is so incidental to McEwan
(HE SPENT SEVENTEEN PAGES DESCRIBING A GAME OF SQUASH!)
but I waded through it anyway
I stuck with it cuz that's one of my flaws
giving the benefit of the doubt to
till they prove me stupid
which most eventually do...
And I know I'm relinquishing
all claim to literary snobbishness
by telling you this
but I'll guarantee ya Scheherazade
kept things lively and moving
and just like that Persian king
I'm still here
after all this time
starry-eyed and hanging
on every word
with childlike wonder
waiting to find out what comes next
Friday, April 17, 2015
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Free from the distractions of shame, your body moves
like undulating waves on an oscilloscope.
Time stops in mid sentence like seagulls obliterated on the horizon.
Your perfume is like a soft breeze wafting down from the toxic waste dump.
Do you think the bees sit around all day
ruminating on to bees or not to bees?
Your breath is like that of a bulldog in heat trying to
scramble over the neighbor's backyard fence.
It's dank down here in the dungeon, waiting for the dragon
to be draggin' his ass back home.
You slink round the barrio like a Siamese cat,
and you listen to Dylan in your leopard skin pillbox hat
I never drink pale ale with a paleface, for fear of reprisals from the Indians.
You drift among the wildlife with their tattoos and their scabs...
then you come back from the beach full of sand and the crabs.
She had a cleft palate, but it worked just fine for mixing colors.
You roll your eyes like Dionysius taking in the graffiti on the crapper stall wall while stopping at the gas station to ask for directions to Syracuse.
Old Mayan Proverb: To be successful,
you've got to make some sacrifices along the way.
I once saw Napoleon's shriveled penis on display at a museum.
It should be noted that they kept it pretty cold in there.
Come and sit, my pet, and I will adjust your flea collar.
Put two and two together and you may have more than you bargained four.
Chimpanzees are almost human. And so are you.
Sometimes I think I'm just too nice to you.
Oh lookit...there goes a person I will never know. And another.
And another. Disappearing 'round the corner. I wonder if it's too late.
Why do some cats eat plastic...why do some dogs eat shit?
Why do we try to put a square peg in a round hole when it really doesn't fit?
If you lived in Denmark, you'd surely be rotten...
and when I'm senile, you'll be the first to be forgotten.
Some days I really do think I'm too nice to you.