THE MAIN THING

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

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

OF WALLS AND BALLS

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

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

ANYWAY

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

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

FADED HIPSTER

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

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!