Pages

Friday, October 28, 2016

NIGHT OF MY WRETCHEDNESS



Because you need to be somewhere
Because you need to be doing something
Because it's neither here nor there
Except for how it makes you feel
When you stop to think about it

Though you think too much about it

And in the end it doesn't make
A pitiable bit of difference
If you even think about it at all

Cuz you gotta be somewhere

All the time
Thinking about it or not
Total slug or genius
You are still gonna be right HERE
(don't try to be there
you can't be THERE
cuz I'M there 
and no two bodies can occupy the same space
at the same time 
if you get confused go to the map
that will obligingly  point out: "You are HERE!")

Yep

Every fuken day
Of your life
It's right there
Staring you in your fat face
What to do
What to do
That's your existential dilemma
Punky
So think about it
THINK THINK THINK
But not too hard... 

I wouldn't want to see

Your head explode 

Thursday, October 20, 2016

KOKURA



On a quiet August morning
in Kokura
a child plays absentmindedly
in the street
as the plane passes
way up high.

The skies have turned cloudy
when only minutes ago
they'd been clear
and a snap determination is made--
too overcast to make the delivery.

On that quiet August morning
another child plays distractedly
in the street
of the alternate target.
The weather cooperates
and Fat Man
like his predecessor Little Boy
is delivered.

One of them survives
and grows to be an old man
who still speaks of
"The Luck of Kokura"
Fat Man's primary target
Little Boy's alternate
yet passed over on both occasions.

And while "luck" implies
a random roulette wheel
kind of universe
which his lady of lo these many years
is more inclined to believe
when she tells him
He doesn't play favorites
you'll never convince him
there wasn't something more at play
on that hazy August morning
as he steps out onto that same quiet street
with his cane
and gazes into the heavens
on another crystal clear day
in Kokura




Thursday, October 6, 2016

SHE



She superimposes his face
upon her own demons
cuz it ain't easy to beat the shit
out of a nameless, faceless entity,
and a punching bag
is always more therapeutic
when it's someone you love.

She knows

that he will absorb the blows--
bounce back grinning
to a standing eight count,
no worse for the wear.
Knowing in his knightly heart
what she still struggles to comprehend.

That the Devil made her do it.