Saturday, August 22, 2020


The matter about this matter

is that we created it

mind create matter
mind over matter
and boys and girls
we've lost our fukking minds 

don'cha feel it too?
go the lyrics to the song...
don'cha feel it too?

Well, what's to do?

Burying myself in the immediacy
of the moment
I ignore all else that lurks
outside my sandcastle walls

Ah...I get the feeling
the universe is telling me
it will soon be time to go
(emulating the birds in 
"Who Knows Where The Time Goes")
and it's saying; See, there ain't that much left
for you to miss out on anymore. 
The world is one by one 
closing up shop on the things you love.

Ah, ya know what I mean
just look around 

Pollyanna has left the building

And if you think it's going to get better
all on its own
and magically right itself again 
after this little cosmic glitch--
I'm here to splash some cold water
on that stupidly grinning mug

We're going to have to think our way
out of this one

a crisis of the spirit

We're going to have to call upon
science and religion
our best minds
on the job
(and beyond that...
we should ask ourselves is HE 
the sick comedian
we've always suspected?)

There's no other way
it poured into my heart

there's love
and there's fear
that's it 
the two dynamics of the universe 

And so we're going to have to think
our way out of this one

We're going to have to scratch
and claw our way out of this one

We're going to have to
kick and spit and cuss

We're going to have to go down 
swinging on this one
We're going to have to love ourselves
out of this one

Sunday, August 9, 2020


It's late at night. 
A woman stops into 
the grocery--deserted 
save for her and the cashier--
and plops down a can
of cat food and a tomato.

The cashier says 
is that all there is--
and as the woman
bundles against the night
on the way back
to her car, that line
from the Peggy Lee song
starts playing in her head.
And in a way she's glad
that it's been reduced to this.

With The Sonofabitch long gone,
and all the kids grown and 
moved on as well,
it's just the pain
(but it's a good one)
of sharp claws digging
into your skin
at 5 o'clock in the morning--
a wakeup call more reliable
that Sonny and Cher
wailing "I Got You Babe."

And that's a hurt that,
unlike most of the others 
that came and went
over the long and the short of it
doesn't leave any hidden scars. 


Saturday, August 1, 2020


The polished night
shelters you in its cocoon
your perfect spot to stay put
and ruminate
until the dawn

You cannot remember
what is holding
America together--
some long lost ideal
of ultimate rightness
and robust potential 
as seen (or constructed)
in Whitman's mind's eye

The young greeter wearing
the mask at the market
says you always wear 
the coolest shoes when
you come in...

You look down... 

Oh, those are my 
Blue Suede Shoes!

You are startled 
that a pleasant someone
barely on your radar before 
has taken note of you
when most who once bore
the heavy burden of 
significant other
surely haven't given you 
a thought in decades

 A reason to hold on
at least one more day
you say

Just to see what will happen

to America
caught up in an Agatha Christie
where you think you know
who's the bad guy
but do you really...
in a world where all the players
are complicit in the murder?

Saturday, July 25, 2020


Greedy capitalists assault the senses
Every minute of the day

It’s the American way

I only ever tried
To sell myself
Often failing miserably
(but stuck with it)

Things that chap your ass
Are easily remedied 
If you’ll just get off of it
And take care of business

Now that would make
A good advertising slogan
(with a patriotic ring)
To help boost the economy

O America
Is there any hope for you now?

Whitman saw it all folding out
Into a glorious panorama

Scaling mountains
Pulling myself cautiously up 

And it was good.

Hold onto that romantic vision
Like the buffalo you decimated
It may yet make a comeback one day
When neighbor stops hating neighbor
And brother stops killing brother

Oh hey
Listen to me
You can still hear that
Wide-eyed idealist
Boarding the bus to the airport
To board the plane
And wing his way over the ocean
To a brand new life
And all because he took a chance
And got off his ass 
And followed his dream

Saturday, July 18, 2020


All of a sudden
the sports talk guy
on the radio
has become a champion
of sensitivity
to women's issues
as if he never spent
a night out boozin' and laughin' 
it up with the boys--
as if he never sat
in a locker room
and traded those jokes before

Saturday, July 11, 2020


The lonesome moon roams the streets

searching for mad love
in all its myriad forms--
it's image reflected in the gutter splash
that peppers my trousers
as a fancy horse-drawn carriage blows by.

A calypso drumbeat seeps

from some nearby edifice.
The crickets sing along.

I duck behind a shop

to drain the snake.

Memories of sinning in the alley

come flooding back.

I'm so uncouth

I laugh
slurring my words
it's only life
I'll just go back again
and take it on the chin.

Drifting along

weaving this way and that
muttering curses
into the dying night.

I am the master of my fate

but where are my subjects?

The moon climbs rapidly

in its umbral sky.

A poem swirls round

in my head
edgy and cryptic
teetering right on the brink
of beginning to stink.

I've walked right up to the abyss

and peered over.
Backed away
to fight another day.

I believe in mad love
in all its myriad forms
one's only leverage
in a broken world.

The cock crows.
A new day begins.

The will to survive 

is all we have.

Saturday, July 4, 2020


Tucked away 
in my tower

safely hidden

from the past

keepin' busy

as always

I have my books

and my poetry
to protect me...

I'm only sad 

when I hear 
those songs again

Sunday, June 28, 2020


I enjoy going back through some of my older poems and finding ones that seem to fit the present situation, perhaps better than when they were originally published. This is one such poem.

If you got outta bed
this morning
you're an optimist
plain and simple
otherwise why would you?

I mean really

you're getting ready
to do your thing
goin' to work
goin' to play
goin' to get drunk 
and the sun is shining
and the birds are tweeting
( many of them have Twitter accounts)
and you just don't think about
how it can all turn to
without a moment's notice
like the snap of your fingers

We live in denial

about the true nature of life
and the turning to shit factor
we just get up every day
and figure that everything
is gonna be fine
but then circumstances
beyond your control
and that's really the key
beyond your control
kick in 
and you stand there
reassessing everything 
you poor pathetic 

What did I do wrong?

Well it was nothing

try to understand that it was
it's just your turn
in the barrel
and everybody gets his turn
cuz we're all here to learn

And that's really when 

it hits you
that you gotta be brave
that you gotta find meaning
when all the evidence points to
a universe as cold
as a witch's left (or is it right?) tit  

And so you wrack your brain 

with the question...

What da fuk 

what da fuk
what da fuk
should I do?

Don't worry Bunky...


Being brave enough to climb

out of bed is the first step

Friday, June 19, 2020


You're plastering those numbers
up on the screen again--
every night it's the same goddamn
thing, over and over--
be very afraid....

You think you've seized upon 

the only thing that matters
or should matter
at this moment in time
because it's about
survival. And yet man 
does not live by survival alone. 
Cave man, maybe.
But not modern 
technologically advanced
and culturally refined man.

We've gone so far past 

the instinct to merely survive.
We've built a world out of 
inspired visions of what's possible
and learned that it's anything
and everything we can imagine!

And I can assure you 

that on a personal
level it's about quality.
Not quantity.

It's not good enough

to merely survive anymore.
And all your white--knuckled
fear mongering-- 
your constant 
sound the alarm
sound the alarm
like somebody's car being broken
into down in the alley
late at night...

Shut that goddamn thing off already!

We get it.

Because I can assure you
that on a personal level--
and I  know I speak not
only for myself--there have 
to be millions of a like mind
thinking this very same thing
right now...
that if this is the way
it's going to be
from this day forward...
if this is the world we're bequeathing
to our children
and grandchildren
then who needs it?

Who fucking needs it? 


Sunday, June 14, 2020


Hidden gaze
into steam-frosted mirror.
With a finger I sketch
the face
that I will wear today.
Tomorrow I'll begin again
with a clean slate.