Wednesday, April 24, 2013

The Communication

It's really
No, she said,
I was tired.
I mentioned
a buddy.
He was dead.
We wanted
to talk
about something
else. But
there was
nothing else there.
You, person.
You, you want
to mention
an amplifier
that is vibrating
your dorm room.
Instead a past
haunts college!

Thursday, April 18, 2013


A person has a day.
They move with that day.
That day begins, that day ends.
They see other people who
also have days.
It's an endless stream of days.
The day stream tugs forward,
pulling loose branches
into the currant. O, now
we are all sliding toward
something flow-y.
I wanted to tell
you about the flowers.
Not the ones that I can name,
but the weird ones I can't.
I want to tell you about
the day, but only a person
has a day.
Trees? No day.
Horses? Days, but not
with the thoughts people have.
Horse thoughts can
create days, too, but
I'm not talking about that
kind of day, that sort
of horse-day. No,
I'm snorting a different
sort of apple. Not an apple day,
a day a person grows.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Responding to Tragedy

There was no need for violence
but no one allowed that to matter.
We all buttoned our coats tighter
and redefined our boundaries.
My boundaries were presented
as obvious, with the caveat
that what is obvious is hard to pin down.
When they presented the security
measures I half-smiled.
I was joking but serious too.
I think they recognized the ironic
nature of my intent. I got some laughs.
Also, some people gently slapped
my back as they said Hello.
Well, hello, I said, in return.
It was the best I could muster.
They had these jewels
that I approached in a thieving
manner. The Lord of the estate?
Away. The chance of change?
Light speed.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Innovation Suggestions

I said to no one, who was
really listening to me,
Hey, I need you to create
a sort of apron,
a certain device for shielding
everyday clothing from
food splatters.
No one was impressed
or awed.
No one was anything.
It's the sort of invention
that gets overlooked
by, like, everyone.
Still, take something like
a washcloth. Without that,
we're all trying to wash
and dry things without
a squarish shaped strip of fabric.
Now, put yourself
in my shoes, with the
elephant in the room.
Look, we are all
very violent hunters!

Monday, April 15, 2013

Personal Responsibility

A person makes a commitment, or not,
and fulfills it, or not.

A person owns and operates a firearm,
or they do not.

It's hard to tell in most cases.
Some people make assurances.

Some people make reassurances.
Some promise to do something
but then don't follow through.

It's frustrating. A person doesn't have
to be a politician to discuss issues
relevant to the public discourse, but
it makes that discussion more

Things get even more lively
when a philosopher embarks
on explaining bus schedules.

O humanity, the endlessness!

Still, there is you and your loved one
huddled beneath a single wooden
and brick structure, or separated
by miles of separation.

You must deal with this.
Only you can address it.

Trust me, there is no hidden camera.
No one will laugh or comment on
anything that happens, but

So, you have to know!
Stop interviewing the neighborhood
and stare down into
your wavy bathroom mirror.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Lit a Sure

The whole downtown was strewn
with the weeds of the flesh,
the stringy foliage of death,
as we emerged, dedicated to a new desire
for life. O, how we wailed for it!
For my part, as a member of the organization,
I committed myself to a roar on par
with famous, animal roars.
A whole history of Africa ruptured
from my throat. Lions, tigers, trumpets.
To the south, green fields and leaves
that stuff puffy comforters.
There, in that golden slouch, the light
moves back and forth across the book
of landscape. Professors and artists
gather to discuss the particular color
of flame. Again the city assembles! Soon
enough a university is sitting in
the driveway. Soon young children
are reciting gruesome prayers. A whole
history enacts a sort of future history.
There, in the blue dawn,
women and men sorting something
that may need sorting.
There, a tender glance or a gesture
that is. What is is hard to pin something to.
For instance, her name, a collar to
be draped about the nape of the neck.
Her name was really just a thunderstorm.
A casserole to be baked. Man,
we're talking, like, Shakespeare!
Shit you wouldn't read if you had to!  

Black Sabbath

It was suppose
to be yesterday,
but it was today.

Doomed, I wrote
to the perky blonde.

There is no better
way to address me, she said.

So, again, I put the words down,
Not exactly doom, but
something like doom.

There are better
things to say than that.

I wrote,
Geezer Butler.

Friday, April 12, 2013

The Coming Clean

There they were, my children.

There, my son.

There, my daughter

There were also the neighbors
and the trees growing in their yards.

The lawnmowers humming
in slight distances.

There, the lawmakers
and city council people.

There, a cop car.

There, terror looming in a village.

There, my love, my wife,
standing above wings.

Everywhere, a dirty mirror.

Cracked slabs of dinner.

My children, those ape years,
are folding into napkins.

We remove the napkin
and place it under the brain.

The brain is damp
on the table.

Elsewhere, children
of servers,
of shopkeepers.

Everywhere, others.

My headed is scooped
out and the potato grows.

Where? Everywhere.
My kids? Wee maps.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Shading Requirements

I was in love with a specific
sort of shadow that appeared
and disappeared regardless
of the motion of the sun.
This shadow, an accessory,
a handbag, an earring, etc,
became a trademark that
distinguished me when
I found myself all debt-deep
and pissed off.
I mean, why wouldn't
a person be pissed?
All that time in the fashion
factory only to find
that your seven fingers
are making a gang sign
recognized by no gangs
or other groups which
require signs made by digits.
In that way, total crap.
The other route, sunshine.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Family Ties

O, God, no,
I can't!

A Poem?
No, she said.

Tina Yothers.

Monday, April 8, 2013

An American Way

I have noticed women who
have become distracted by violence
and men who want guns so much
that they think of guitars.

Guitars that don't reverberate
with folk traditions,
but guitars that cut people
into perforated piping,
into rags slapped over knee holes.

These men and women
feel the warmth of the sun
like other men and women,
and Neanderthals.

It was so punk rock
to skewer mammoth,
to suck on mammoth marrow,

It was so adored that we all adored it.

But, it's a new age. Listen:

What you hear is the sound of what
you hear. I can't help with that bullshit.

What I know is that the new maps
match the old maps,
not perfectly,
but with such flair that I'm tempted
to declare a truce.

Try hard.
See what happens.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Happy Shopping

The star you are is not absolute.

In fact, what you aren't
is a major thrust of history.

Your whole life, in college,
as a song or daughter,
as a person moving about,

as a son of situations.

Now, a circumstance has arisen
to such a degree that you're baffled.

I say to you this, said one
of the twelve betrayers, I have
twelve lies for you.


On the other hand, a variance
so normal it looks like a mall.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Certain Demonstrable Fridays

Movies tend to demonstrate a variety
of activities, including activities
that happen only, otherwise, rarely.
As a saturday.

The movie of my double decker bus
isn't very international,
in fact, it's not even local
or homeward.

Tinier than a human nose,
thiner than a mint.
My plot trots out,
insect finger.

What's that you point out?
Over there? Yes, a composer.
There? A host of no ones.

Hey you, no one,
step up or shut up. My poor ideas,
a note trembling on a violen bow.

Good god, dude. The cut-away!

Friday, April 5, 2013

A Very Old Man with Enormous Wallace Stevens

There is no gold in the places
that there should be gold. It's confusing.
Imagine it like this: when you're looking
for gold in the places you think gold
should be, there is no gold.
Where to look for gold when
gold is not where you're looking?
A place. That's it. So then
that begins too. A place. You
think about it more. A place. A place.
You think more about a place.

There is not a gem you can hold
in your hands. You're hands are gone,
dude. There is a not a name
in your throat nor a frog. Nor a
place to ice fish. There is not a place
to ice fish! There is no place to ice fish!
Consider those bluebirds. Consider
that particular kettle. Get closer to
answering a type of meal. There
is no meal where you look for the
meal. No meal. Where you look
you find no meal. What you find
is no meal.
Dog poem boy
Dog poem boy
Dog poem boy

Thursday, April 4, 2013

A History Revealed

It's a sort of devil, she moaned.

The moaning, I said, that's beautiful.

She moaned more.

I'm getting turned on, I said.

It's a sort of death, she mooed.

Moo on! I said. Moo on with your bad self!

I was always talking like that.

I had identified a new species, but I wasn't sure.

Be sure, she mocked. Mock on, I spat.

As if, by peer pressure, she mocked more.

There is no club you can join now, she warned.

Listen, I said, I feel plenty warned, you can back off with the warnings.

The warning was wearing on me, but I was more turned on.

The turning, she said, that's the real issue.

And, as if by force, the wind blew the newspaper.

I wailed. A stream formed. Ashes went forward.

Next stop: the devil, she purred.

She was always purring then.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Who's the Boss?

It's just
a poem.

What good
can it possibly

do? I mean,
a poem?

Come on!

Tony Danza.