Tuesday, February 27, 2018
FAR AFIELD
The rain swept through here this morning
cleaning everything but the film
clouding your eyes
she was all smoke and mirrors
from the beginning
and on some level you knew that
but sometimes you have to do
the wrong thing
just to know you're still alive
so once again you've gone far afield
just to learn your lesson
traipsing through a meadow
dotted with toadstools
beside that Houston police station
Don Knotts' twin brother gloms onto you
at the hotel in New Orleans
breaking into an old barbershop song
and muttering inappropriate comments about
the young girl behind the front desk
as you stand there
trying to check out of your life
he was a tennis champion long ago
before the personality disorder set in
and you feel you need to wake up
from something
but you don't know what it is
and you know that nothing will ever be
the same again
but it will be the same again
after it's been different
for a long enough time
hey just try to find one
who isn't a little wacko
in some way
as crazy serves as the new norm
all fueled by drugs and booze and war
tumult and upheaval
the daily pressures of survival
as the TV screams
be afraid
be very afraid
and high school kids
serve as daily target practice
for the irreversibly deranged
our one slim hope to turn it around
being to make "Jackie Blue"
the new national anthem
sung at the start of every ballgame
the fans mouthing the words
with their hands over their hearts
so deadpan serious
and you
console yourself
with the epiphany that you see things
too clearly
with a grasp on the nuts
of the problem
not commonly held
but once again you've squeezed them
too tightly
as slippery sluts
slide through your fingers
and you vow that next time
by freaking god
you will raise your standards
and use a little less olive oil
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
JIMMY REED HIGHWAY
Saturday night
and everybody gotta be somewhere
or thinks that they do
I'm okay bein' nowhere
but if I was gonna be somewhere
I'd be rollin' down that Jimmy Reed Highway
take out some insurance
an' let 'er rip
the spirit moves
when you've nothing to lose
barreling full throttle ahead
ignoring all the warning signs
til you crash and burn
that's a tough way to go out
but a helluva ride
when the last person who remembers you dies
so do you
some romantic bullshit maybe
as Brando would say
I'm committing slow suicide
but it's better than the alternative
and the world is screaming
NO NO
we can't be lost
And Hitler is still waiting
outside the gates of Hell
twiddling his thumbs
they've tightened up their immigration policy
as in some other places
masquerading in female form
his favorite disguise
according to Elvis
and my own observation
but love was easy when it was
like a jackhammer penetrating your indifference
like a lumberjack chipping away at your resistance
like a finger on your trigger
like a ditch digging its digger
like Humpty Dumpty humping all the king's horses
like the Queen Mum humping all the king's men
like a congressman with a coke bottle up his ass
like it's so damn funny I forgot to laugh
ah, but those good times
they don't last
and you're just a momentary blip
on the radar screen of existence
headed for that crash landing
no survivors
Labels:
Brando,
crash landing,
Elvis,
good times,
hell,
Jimmy Reed,
nowhere,
somewhere
Tuesday, February 6, 2018
MAKING ROOM
He was a big deal
in his chosen field
passed away suddenly
is all the obit would reveal
below was a place for comments
and condolences
you could leave online
most from peeps I didn't recognize
they knew him professionally
all business ya know
I knew him pre-professionally
I knew him from the front steps
of the schoolhouse
a bunch of us 8 year-olds
gathered round
listening to him chant:
am I crazy...am I silly...
will I eat a pic-a-dilly
he was on a roll
improvising his own nonsensical rhymes
that still make me grin today
in our little movie theater
kids shouting witticisms at the screen
his voice leading the charge
we were forerunners of the Rocky Horror
audience participation phenomenon
(no matter that it was
Singin' In The Rain playing)
so amongst all the somber comments
and long-winded condolences
I wrote simply:
John will always be remembered,
to those of us who knew him from childhood,
as the funniest kid in our class
not so good a thing
of course
to remember the dearly departed
from that far back
it means you're close on the heels
most likely
I still don't know
what this life is for
but maybe the best we can do is to
fire off a few clever lines
then get off the stage
(always leave 'em wantin' more)
to make room
for that next joker in line
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