FAR AFIELD

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

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 

JIMMY REED HIGHWAY

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

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

I've played host to The Devil incarnate
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

MAKING ROOM

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

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 

THE PARADE NEVER WAITS

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

In honor of the Blood Moon, I'm sharing a freebie with you from my book: Last Tango In Timbuktu.

Shelter along the cove

palm fronds fretting in the wind

sun beats down

eyes flutter behind darkened lenses

no secrets revealed

Dancing in the courtyard

summer smoke and gin blossoms

arms akimbo for kabuki

no tangos

or wild gang-bangos

for the faint of heart

Along the beach lovers entwine

like snakes that strangle their prey

love me a little

love me a little more

I'm not a lollipop

I'm an all day sucker

We take no prisoners

nor photographs of these encounters

for pride is like a ride

on a lizard's eyelid

the shutter clicks

when you forget to smile

Beyond the fire coyote waits

eyes burning like binary stars

in the morning he will escape

with a piece of your soul

Fair wind and a calypso beat

requiem for the summer's heat

magic spells and voodoo dolls

and dead men smell no tails

Crumpled napkins with lipstick traces

pedal to the metal

heading for open spaces

The parade never waits

Waves pounding the shore

echo the emptiness

phone abandoned in its cradle

like a waif on your doorstep

Staring into your breakfast bowl of Wheat Chex

you are reminded that you are back to square one

standing pat while the river of dreams drifts along in your eyes

Mata Hari

Harry Caray

Howdy Doody

Peewee Herman

Ethel Merman

Punch and Judy

It takes a village

to conduct a really good orgy

Will you stand vigil here

or will you run with the pack

into the black heart of the night?

Already you see the men are restless

and the horses nervous with laughter

The time is ripe

and you are no civilian

in this war

Assemble your brigade

we strike at dawn

ALONG THE PATH

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

old couples

meandering through the park

make me smile

though I'll never be fifty percent

of that kinda awesome twosome

peeps with pooches

the more the better

movin

stoppin

sniffin

make me smile

'specially when they choose me

to spontaneously lick

(the pooches not the peeps)

when I happen along

though all the lickers

I've known up close and personal

have slurped their last of me

 speakin of which...

young couples 

with strollers

movin along the path

always conversing

animatedly

about somethin

cuz they've got a lot goin on

in their world

make me smile

though no one's ever called me "daddy"

'cept a couple of floozies

back in the day

along the way

along the path 

I choose to walk alone 

but in my solitude

there's still some gratitude

still some reasons

every day

to smile

cuz it finally hit me ya know

that when I pop outta dat bed

each mornin

and still be hangin

round

still upright

and not uptight

that it's only by The Grace

it's only by The Grace

it's only by The Grace

say it again

it's only by The Grace

so come what may

I'll always find a reason

don't even need 

a freakin reason

to smile 

THE LONG AND THE SHORT OF IT

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads --dVerse Poets Pub

The story has been told before...
our intrepid host stops the film
described as a dream of dark 
and troubled things
for lively discussion with experts.

Essential questions we ask about life
while confronting truths
that didn't fit in with our holiday schedules.

When all hell breaks loose
as the Reptilians in the balcony
begin to shout: Bring on the crazy cat clips!

A hush falls over the assemblage
as the Lizard King's voice 
reverberates through the hall: 

Life, as you know it, is a dirty fairy tale...bittersweet at best...when our time comes, we'll drive electric cars, support compassionate causes, abolish pay toilets, and live in elaborate 
communal herpetariums! 

You grieve for irretrievable things
your whole lives long
then wax philosophical
uselessly
in a joint like this 
when that's really the long 
and the short of it

Then slowly, one by one,
as the realization sinks in,
the peeps begin to rise
and file out of the theater
in a sad and dejected looking way
as a series of crazy cat videos
seemingly endless
careen across the screen
for those still insisting upon
their full money's worth.
  

SHOUTING DISTANCE

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

To kick off the new year, here's a freebie for you from my book Last Tango In Timbuktu 

The rain came before sunrise
in steady sheets
like the one I was trying
to pull over my head

I was just out of a dream
where I was whispering into the ear
of a woman who seemed to be
 my counselor
or confidante
a dream where I had speculated about
the sex of a pencil

It was long
a real woody
and it could prick you
when it's sharp
no wait...erase that

It was worn 
past the last hurrah
like a space ship
in the shape of a cigar

(And when hers was worn down to the nubbin
Sylvia Plath stuck her head in the oven)

It made so much sense to say
that I am my brother's keeper
but of course the other side had just claimed
that we'll get you to the promised land
in just a little different way

Let us fly and make our own mistakes
don't need a hand or a handout
of course that's the way where
crash and burn
 is followed in sequence by
oh shit
oh well

The rain had no intention
of letting up
as dawn's curtain lifted slowly
the new year now within shouting distance

And in the dream I was giddy
as I breathed into her ear
that I didn't know whether to laugh
or to cry

The culmination of a lifetime
of fledgling flight

Don't be concerned
if I crash and burn

THE GREAT MYSTERIES OF LIFE

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

As we stand on the cusp of the new year, I'm in a reflective mood...so here's an encore presentation that I know many of you have not seen before that addresses what I'm feeling...and am always feeling to some extent. HAVE A HAPPY!

I'm cruising down to the convenience store to pick up some beers

with the words of my spiritual master ringing in my ears:

You must give up your worldly attachments if you want to advance.

Pulling into the lot I spot a raven-haired goddess

riding in with some biker who looks like

one of the lout-infested Vikings in that credit card commercial.

While he is distracted inside,

I whisper in her ear: "What's HE got that I ain't got?"

And she says..."He's got...a big...HARLEY!"

So I hop back into my car,

resigned to worshipping her from afar--

but my master is adamant on this point:

You musn't worship something that could give you an STD.

And I'm supposed to give up sex--

or at least not enjoy it, if I want to be enlightened.

And I must atone for a life of living fast and loose,

in order to extract my neck from this karmic noose.

And I must be engaged with the great mysteries of life,

as I ponder why the weather girls on the Spanish channel

are always hotter than all the others...

and I am picking up a Christian radio station

on my television: POSITIVE, ENCOURAGING, K-LOVE!

It drowns out the regular programming on my PBS channel.

And I'm certain that it's some kind of sign from the cosmos--

but why pick on a nice Buddhist boy like me?

Heading home, I see Kerouac on the corner,

trying to wangle a ride--

he's been standing there since 1955.

But hard times have fallen on vagabond scribes,

as "Do You Know the Way to San Jose?"

gave way to One Night In Paris.

But he's picking up some extra jack

writing the direction labels on shampoo bottles

in his stream-of-consciousness style...

Once upon a time in a Ford Galaxy

far, far away--I whispered empty words

of love to Suzie, and Lucy, and Betty Jean--

until...VOILA! Fourteen years of coming

home every night and saying: WHAT'S FOR DINNER?

Thinking this is it--the happiness that had eluded me--

as the prime of my life slowly...slipped...away.

As did she.

And I can see my mother and me

standing on the platform

as the train roars down upon us--

she is running away...again.

And it is said that boys grow up

and seek out their mothers--

and so it was

that I chose one

who would RUN.

And I tell my master it's easier

to give up your worldly attachments

when there's little left to lose.

And there's something about being done

with the greater part of it that turns you young.

And you find yourself saying WHATEVER

and you come to understand that it means

accepting things the way they are--

and you think maybe these kids are on to something

as they shrug and turn back to their internet porn.

And yet, here I stand, crying

WHAT'S IT ALL ABOUT, ALFIE?

But Alfie's too busy scoring

to offer any kind of reply,

though he seems to be saying heaven can wait.

So I just want to know...

can there be any compromise

for one who is other worldly, yet worldly wise?

COSMIC JOKE

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

An encore presentation that speaks to our times

The point
is not to point out
this injustice
or that
and rail
and wail
and flail
or send those angry missives
through the mail
have at it if it floats your
rubber ducky
if it makes you feel better
 to care
just be aware
that injustice is EVERYWHERE
you haven't been singled out
(snort some o' this up your snout)
be a fundamentalist
if it turns your crank
let the preacher take
your money to the bank
you're still missing
the fundamental point
that this world we've created
you and me
is a topsy-turvy
absurdity
a game one can only win
if not taken seriously
that sounds like a contradiction
(now you're getting warm)
you don't react to absurdity
you don't respond to insanity
with a jerk of the knee
just laugh along
with the other inmates
of the asylum
who've discovered the
cosmic joke
play the game
for all you're worth
but don't take a life
or give your life
(settle down with your wife)
this cheaply
alone in your room at night
putting together that explosive device
and when you've blown yourself
the hell off the planet
and your soul is streaking
back to that place of
clarity and light
you'll say oh you
stupid
silly
sonofabitch
you fell for it again
and all because
you missed the point
of the game
which is simply to remember
that you're playing one
and that later on we'll all have
a good laugh together
and go back
Jack
and do it again