Pages

Monday, June 17, 2019

A COBBLESTONE STREET IN CANNES





I know you thought
that last one was weird
and I could see you
sitting there saying:
Geez, I hope he doesn't 
make this a habit
cuz he was obviously
high when he wrote it!

(I just had to laugh)


When all your angels

have retired and given
up the ghost and you're
out there on your own
existential limb
teetering in the wind
you'll simply tell it as it is
with increasing alacrity

all good people deplore

problems at a distance

appalled by what the

unenlightened inflict
upon each other
(but at a distance)

the power disparity

inherent in all relationships
whether they be between
individuals or groups of
individuals sows the
seeds of abuse

and here's the thing

about Armageddon......

there won't be any time to

look back and ask
what went wrong
when your ass is
high-tailing it for the hills

(jump cut)


If I had my druthers

I'd be walking down
a cobblestone street in Cannes
a few paces behind Brigitte Bardot
whose butt is wiggling like
a sack of Yukon Gold potatoes
in her bright white short shorts
and yes I will take that year
whatever it is to inhabit
like a hermit crab
for all time

The person caught in any

moment in time is
frozen in that moment
because that is his moment
then a much older person
who is caught in his moment
and will forever be comes
along and has the audacity
to claim that he is the same
person as that whippersnapper
from long ago...

identity theft on a global scale


and God said to the monk of 57 years:

You know you could have done
whatever the hell you wanted--
I'm not a prude!

but whatever it is

make it good 
'cause time steals away
like a whore 
from your bedside
at 5 a.m.
and the world 
is made of yesterdays

Saturday, June 8, 2019

THE CREATURE THAT YOU WERE



I was watching this movie 
from 50 years ago 1969
two young men on a road trip
through Italy and a girl 
they pick up (Charlotte Rampling-
always an intriguing presence)
I was haunted by a couple of pigeons
who got a brief cameo to ruffle
their feathers and then they were 
gone but they existed! 
and for a moment I honored
their presence in this world 
they lived they died
they had pigeon adventures and
difficulties like anyone...

This shit's been going on forever

and you were there

How foolish it may be to say

this is me and this was my life
dating back to ???
you're not the same creature you were
then and no one would confuse
the "you" back then with this thing
you've now become (sorry-just reflecting
on my own state of being) 
did those pigeons ever
think about emerging from the shell and 
say oh look that was me...how cute
don't think so they knew exactly
who they were at every stage of the game
so you see a connecting thread simply because
you can remember events from that other
person's life and current events of your own
I tell you don't reflect upon that person's life
they are forever young...  you are
forever old and disgusting...
if your mind opened up you'd remember
it ALL and where would that continuity
the singular life thread that you cling to so 
obsessively now be then...

Pigeon poop in the wind




Sunday, June 2, 2019

LONG WINTER'S NIGHT



Should I sleep in my clothes again
or does it matter to anyone but me?
(Oh, there's crumbs in my beard...
maybe tomorrow I'll brush them out.)

There are nights when the fog rolls in
so heavy that the pale light of your lantern
won't begin to cut a path forward.

And you haven't got a dog
you haven't got a woman
and you just ran out of beer.

What is dead is restless
and you've rescued no one.

That portends a long winter's night
and summer has just begun.

 I'll leave the window cracked a bit
in case there are ghosts who want
to slip in to hurl their final accusations.

Then I will sleep
and close my eyes
to everything that dies.

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

ALL THE NEWS YOU CAN'T USE



And now we take you to reporter Bill Williams, on the scene in Katmandu to interview Sven Jorgensenn, who has just returned from the summit of Mount Everest.

REPORTER BILL: Well. Mister Jorgensenn, that's quite a feat you just accomplished! But what do you say to people who look at that and say: He climbed a big rock...what's the freaking point of THAT?

SVEN: Well, when you put it that way, I guess it was about my own self-gratification, you know? Because it was there! I guess you could say my obsession pushed me on to new heights--ha ha!

REPORTER BILL:  Yes, just think of what you could have accomplished had you used that same sort of obsession to do something actually worthwhile...something that would have contributed to the betterment of mankind, or the planet we live on.

SVEN: Well...we did leave a lot of trash up there...not exactly helping things, I guess. But hey, I'll be able to brag about this the rest of my life!

REPORTER BILL: A lot of people died up there..leaving their families to grieve for the rest of their lives..all in the name of something that has no real significance or meaning... except, as you say, one's own selfish pursuits, reckless obsession, and bragging rights.

SVEN: But it proves I've got some BIG ONES, now doesn't it?  No guts, no glory.  Hi mom!!!

REPORTER BILL: Now back to our studios for a report on another truly meaningless topic....the upcoming election! 

Tuesday, May 21, 2019

LONE WOLF



Kinda funny to think of 
how I once submitted myself
for your approval
(you meaning the lot of you)
in the ritual we call
The Dance
to be graded
rated
negated
castrated
or perhaps
sated
but in the end
it's all the same
but now you see
you've nothing I need
so there's no need
to bother
and had I known
how easy it would be to say
FUK TO ALL
(to be brutally honest)
I'd have done it long ago
and saved these tire tracks
across my back 

Never could figure out
the secret
to makin' someone else
happy
till one day it finally hit me...

Goddamn, Sam!
That ain't your job!

Thursday, May 9, 2019

HARD RAIN



I'll give you something to dream on
with your dream catcher above the bed
an Indian summer
a band of wild Indians war whooping
and an arrow stuck in your butt
as just desserts for rooting for the
cowboys in those old western movies
when you were a kid

A hard rap on the knuckles
with a ruler
for every time you caught
fireflies in a jar
they died in there 
just so you could see
some twinkly lights
shallow child

There are only stolen moments of joy
(admit that now and you'll be free)
all the rest is just the tedium of life
as seen through rose colored beer glasses

Would you cough your life up
like a hairball
examine it
and swallow it again? 

And I want to see an honest epitaph that says:
Here lies ol' Bob
his life wasn't horrible
but it kinda sucked

I sometimes reflect upon
who and what I might have been
had I gone off to kill people
at the behest of some politicians
I was twisted enough as it was

I can't imagine
I can't imagine

But thank you for your service
thanks for defending our slavery

And the animals are marching
2 by 2
as if they knew
a hard rain's a-gonna fall






Thursday, May 2, 2019

ANOTHER APRIL

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


What is this "growing old gracefully" shit?
Does it mean that you will not bitch
about your aches and pains?
Does it mean you won't wince when
women call you Sir?
And does it mean that you will
no longer be able
to hop up on the table at the dance
and drop your pants?

And if you did 

would they all just snicker
instead of scream?

I like to think of grace

as maintaining my own pace.
Each day the road is filled with
cars
trucks
motor homes
and bulldozers
gunning past me like I'm standing still
just because I'm doing only
ten miles an hour over the speed limit. 
If any of them had been on 
The Hindenburg or
The Titanic
they'd have learned that you 
don't want to always be in 
such a frightful hurry 
to get where you're going to end up.

Another April has come and gone

and I'm in less of a tizzy
more inclined to listen to
music instead of news
rollin' down the road to my man
Jimmy Reed wailing the blues.

So I'll take some time

to take the long way home
and when I run out of pavement
I want the radio to be playing
that same sweet refrain
as I fade into the topaz twilight.

Sunday, April 28, 2019

NO ESCAPE



I knew her when she was twelve
such a pretty girl
shoulda coulda been 
Homecoming Queen
later on

but she was hemmed in

on all sides
by the trash

white trash


no one hauls it away

she never knew anything
but the trash

they say pull yourself up

by your bootstraps
break the cycle
but how can you
when no one hauls
the trash away

such a pretty girl

shoulda coulda been
a model
but there was no one around
to model a different reality               

saw her a while back

overweight
overburdened
two little kids 
each fathered by a different
dude
neither of whom could be seen
on the the local radar screen 

each of them said

see you later
gonna take out the trash
and they hauled their asses
out of there

the only lie they never told her 



Tuesday, April 23, 2019

MAN IN THE MIRROR




Still just a dumbshit
in the delirium
of his own desires
though mitigated by
expectations diminished
his flag at half mast
waving in the breeze
looking for a nimble
pole dancer
to be his main squeeze

Sunday, April 14, 2019

JUMP CUT



HOW TO DO ANYTHING
print out my online instructions
but be advised they are lengthy
because "anything" covers
a lot of ground.

LAST CHANCE FOR 8 DOLLAR SHORTS
I've taken it in the shorts 
too many times
maybe my luck is turning.

COMMENT FROM MARIA
wait...
lemme check this...
okay...
never mind...
Maria is a whore.

TIM, YOU HAVE A NEW 
SUGGESTED FRIEND

I'm so distracted!

Gimmie an  A!

Gimmie a    D!

Gimmie an  H!

Gimmmie a  D!


COMMENT FROM ROXANNE
My reply: 
So happy
you've turned out the red light
at long last.

jump cut
jump cut

Oh, look at your cute little twins
we are Siamese if you please
I'm turning Japanese
I'm turning...
I'm turning...

I'm going back in my memory
to observe
The Big Bang
once again
I remember it 
as being...
loud

Where are my fukking ear plugs???

GOOGLE IS DOWN
GOOGLE IS DOWN
I'm melting!
I'm melting!

America
we are in big trouble.

Never mind...
just gimmie my damn phone!






Monday, April 8, 2019

HAPPY TALK NEWS



Now let's join the local
morning news team on Channel 18...


News Anchor KEN:
There's a big jaywalking problem
in our city--now we take you
to Stacy Blah, our reporter
on the scene down at the 
corner of Blah and Blah...

Holy crap, Stacy...

get out of the road...
you almost got hit by that bus!

Now let's go to Shannon for the weather...hey Shannon, there's some discussion

around the water cooler as to whether
you are a natural blonde or not...

SHANNON:
That's for me to know and for you to 
put it where the sun don't shine, Ken!

KEN:
Hey Shannon, I'm only relaying
the scuttlebutt from those who
observed you at the office Christmas
party--ha ha!


Now let's go to Jay for the sports report...

JAY:
Well, folks, the Cubs lost another game last night. They've got no hitting and they've got no pitching. You'll see them in the World Series again in another hundred years or so. If you're lucky. THEY SUCK!!!

KEN:
Keep it right here  
for more news you can use...
we'll be back with more
on the election after these short
words about your erection
from Frank Thomas!

Click.

Monday, April 1, 2019

EFFORTLESS



You've probably always wondered
why the aliens 
(not the ones at the border) 
look the way they do
with their huge eyes
and heads and
emaciated bodies
but it's easy to figure out

Brick and mortar died

and it became so effortless
for us to have everything we wanted
ordered online and delivered
right to our door
from food
to the clothes we wear
to the cars we drive

We never had to leave the house

(except when the toilet was backed up)
we never got any exercise
we sat for hours upon end
day and night
staring into our phones
and it made our eyes
and our heads grow huge
and our bodies devolve into
these little stick figures

And you've always wondered why

the "aliens" look so strange
but they are from the future

And yes

they are us


Tuesday, March 26, 2019

THE MAIN THING



I don't care
about your poem

What I mean is

I DON'T CARE...

if your poem is political

I just won't be discussing
it with you

if your poem is personal
as long as you are
only crying in ways that
don't show on the outside

if your poem is salacious 

as long as it's funny and dirty 
at the same time

if your poem

is a prose poem if you
don't mind me saying it's prosaic

if your poem is a sonnet

I'll just imagine you
in your Easter Bonnet 

if you stole your poem

from someplace else as long as
it's nothing I've already read

if your poem is an erasure poem

(you should have erased it
before anyone saw it)

The main thing is 
that you get on with it 

because

we
both
know
this
ends 
badly

for him

for you
for me 
quite possibly for the world
and most assuredly
for this poem

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

OF WALLS AND BALLS


If you're looking for true love
then you must WAVE constantly
it attracts more attention

A wave is just a bird
winging over the walls
we've erected
to keep everyone else out


They're really not real at all
in a certain way
and in another way
they are very real

Violate the laws of physics

and you will see what I mean
like when you rush headlong
into that brick wall

The wall is just an illusion
but it still hurts like hell
now doesn't it?

Ha ha

that's The Joke

Like when you swing at the ball

and miss you feel one way
and when you swing at the ball
and crush it you feel another way
but the ball is just the ball
and isn't responsible
for your feelings
even though you've taken
yours out on it
wham-o
crushed that sucker good

We have lots of exculpatory

evidence that clears the ball
of any wrongdoing

Pedants put out humorless

poems with devastating endings
designed to make you feel
the pain of individuals
or entire cultures wronged

The one thing we will regret
most from the other side
of the divide 
is that we took ourselves
way too seriously

Just play the game
and have a ball

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

ANYWAY




Sometimes I just have to stop 
an say to myself
what the HELL you doin man?

an then I think well

I ain't these candidates
wavin the Good Book and the flag
around like they was the ones
who invented em
so addicted to playin that game
till it's not even about the money
or the power anymore
it's just about the rush I get
when I hear them chanting my name

no...I ain't doin that...


an' then I think

am I a junkie
shootin shit into my arm
an between my toes
lyin
stealin
betrayin
sellin mah goddamn
soul for the next fix
(or just the next pack of cigs)

an I say no... ain't doin that...

(so already things are lookin up) 

an I ain't workin for Monsanto

raping and ripping off 
the world
an I ain't the ones making
those telltale trails in the sky
with God knows what is comin
out the ass end of those planes
an I ain't running some online scam
from an internet cafe somewhere
in Nigeria duping lonely 
and gullible folks out of their
hard earned savings
an I ain't some serial killer
but I am a cereal killer
every morning
an it occurs to me that 
most of the good you can do 
in this world 
may be defined more by all
the bad you stay away from
so I'll keep on feelin my oats
and eating my spinach
an watching Popeye cartoons 
an laughin my ass off
an thinkin...

man 

you ain't such a bad dude
after all...
anyway
it could be worse




Tuesday, March 5, 2019

FADED HIPSTER



The train leaves
the years recede
all your dolls 
are packed away

An old girlfriend

(collected abstract art--
an amazing piece) 
a beach hotel 
your last resort

Faded hipsters

will always dig
Steely Dan
but the world 
is a piano 
out of tune

To wit:

Inca
Oshichi
Monopoly
Nanashi No Gombe
Puff
Ra

And you hear the cries

of brooding lumberjacks
with axes to grind
drunkards and gluttons
groping and grabbing
until the bitter end
my friend

And you love 
the precision of 
numbers
the only things 
that will never leave you 
but merely accrue
until you're down
for the count

A hand reaches out

for something or
someone
grasping thin air
the room runs out of
oxygen
and the world
is a snuffed candle

Happy birthday!