This is
a bit
of a lark —but sometimes
I wish
I was one of those upside-
down U-shape
steel bicycle racks—
possibly painted-
up in bright
orange for the sake
of visibility—on the corner
of whatever bleak and
beleaguered city street!
That way—from miles
around
people who need
to slow down—would thoughtlessly
come—and
fasten their trust
to what they vaguely
perceive as my
infinite durability!
But better yet—
they would only ever really
try to rely
on just that sort of
neverending
strength and stamina I provide
once or twice—
with the swift economy
of humility—and always
always
always—
temporarily.
Friday, August 29, 2014
Thursday, August 28, 2014
BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS DEPOSED
The good news—is
those
dozens
and dozens—of covert
little
corners—
those
negative spaces—
that don't
even count
as your waffle—that's
where
the best syrup
eventually
collects—
and the butter.
those
dozens
and dozens—of covert
little
corners—
those
negative spaces—
that don't
even count
as your waffle—that's
where
the best syrup
eventually
collects—
and the butter.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
THE GENIUS STAGGERS
No no, it's just that—
most of the time—I'm always so
overly full!
of great ideas—
that they tend
to glob up—and dribble out
of my mouth
super slow—
and sound
weird and cheap
and even—kind of
sleazy—you know?
like some pretty
invaluable heap
of totally classic
Johnny Cash 45's—
playing back
on your old hi-fi
which is
stuck—on LP speed.
most of the time—I'm always so
overly full!
of great ideas—
that they tend
to glob up—and dribble out
of my mouth
super slow—
and sound
weird and cheap
and even—kind of
sleazy—you know?
like some pretty
invaluable heap
of totally classic
Johnny Cash 45's—
playing back
on your old hi-fi
which is
stuck—on LP speed.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
THE SAME CAREER IN A NEW TOWN
For just about—ever
the very same
afternoon
sun has lied
rippling—its endemic
and its undulating
vibrato across—
some field
or other
of wild morning grass;
as if—singing
the easiest
and the
most selfish thing
that anyone
or anything
could think of
to sing
and still intend it
as a gift—
if the opposite
of
simplicity
exists,
it'll simply have
to wait
for later.
the very same
afternoon
sun has lied
rippling—its endemic
and its undulating
vibrato across—
some field
or other
of wild morning grass;
as if—singing
the easiest
and the
most selfish thing
that anyone
or anything
could think of
to sing
and still intend it
as a gift—
if the opposite
of
simplicity
exists,
it'll simply have
to wait
for later.
Monday, August 25, 2014
CLIFF NOTES TO WESTERN CIVILIZATION
We may have
evolved
to drink
water—but we deserve
wine now—
and
coffee after.
DAMN BAD ODDS
To build
upon—something
I was starting
to say yesterday—
regarding
the heart—of the difficulty
inherent to
all sketchy creation—
staring
into the wind-disheveled
weird face of how
devilishly simple!
it ordinarily
is—to just come along and to
topple the whole thing over—
It is useless! You
might as well try
to stop
the morning sun coming—
up again
in vainglory and—completely wrecking!
that tenuous
and exquisite—
dark
web of last night.
upon—something
I was starting
to say yesterday—
regarding
the heart—of the difficulty
inherent to
all sketchy creation—
staring
into the wind-disheveled
weird face of how
devilishly simple!
it ordinarily
is—to just come along and to
topple the whole thing over—
It is useless! You
might as well try
to stop
the morning sun coming—
up again
in vainglory and—completely wrecking!
that tenuous
and exquisite—
dark
web of last night.
Friday, August 22, 2014
PARKING FOR CUSTOMERS ONLY
After some weeks
it seems—the black
slate and blue dusty
construction crew
at the end
of this block
has finally—cleaned
up and cleared
the heck
out!
Now—I can see
at long
last! what they've built—
which—turns out
is actually
a whole vacant
lot.
CO-OP
There's—definitely
an eagle
in me—deep
down—
in the pit
of my
abominable soul—
And he likes
nothing more
than to feast
upon lambs!—
but oddly enough
there's also
a little
room for—a man;
one who
prefers
his lamb—ground
into neat
and perfectly
spiced sides of sausage—by the tools
and the hands
of some whole
other man—ideally one
who'd himself
just as
soon rather
eat a more ethical
mess—of terrible
bird eggs for his breakfast!
an eagle
in me—deep
down—
in the pit
of my
abominable soul—
And he likes
nothing more
than to feast
upon lambs!—
but oddly enough
there's also
a little
room for—a man;
one who
prefers
his lamb—ground
into neat
and perfectly
spiced sides of sausage—by the tools
and the hands
of some whole
other man—ideally one
who'd himself
just as
soon rather
eat a more ethical
mess—of terrible
bird eggs for his breakfast!
Thursday, August 21, 2014
MFA
Kate—I think your
most
heart-aching
and amazingly
beautiful dance—
is still
that classy
and post-
modern one—
where you
just
keep
your balance.
RINSE CYCLES
Inside a recondite
quiet—but still
reverberating
eye
Lucy and I
go—midmorning
gliding—darkwet by so many
mildly
agitated spinning vortices
silent—behind their streaky
and soap-
stained shop windows—
that my mind
can't help circling
back—and
back
and back yet again quietly—and each
time with less
and a more-
diffuse sense
of astringency—to how
there's really
no such
thing as—a break in the weather.
quiet—but still
reverberating
eye
Lucy and I
go—midmorning
gliding—darkwet by so many
mildly
agitated spinning vortices
silent—behind their streaky
and soap-
stained shop windows—
that my mind
can't help circling
back—and
back
and back yet again quietly—and each
time with less
and a more-
diffuse sense
of astringency—to how
there's really
no such
thing as—a break in the weather.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
REVERSE MOMENTUM
Okay—so what
do I get?
for free-
ly admitting—
a juicy painted-up
wood flower
box
near my street
that's just busting—
with those vivid two-
colored
red and white kinds
of zinnias—just made
me salavate
as I wondered
with ardor—whether
they
still make
that—brilliant
Fruit Striped Gum stuff!
do I get?
for free-
ly admitting—
a juicy painted-up
wood flower
box
near my street
that's just busting—
with those vivid two-
colored
red and white kinds
of zinnias—just made
me salavate
as I wondered
with ardor—whether
they
still make
that—brilliant
Fruit Striped Gum stuff!
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
EXTENDED PERCUSSION SOLO
After a stiff
bronze and a
mesmerizing while—marching
the same necessarily
rectangular miles—
the bright and terse
jingle
and then of course
the counter-
complimentary
jangle—of jumbley keys
to practically
half—the goddamn prettiest
houses on this
and then
that street—is about as much
music
as one man alone can
possibly—
responsibly handle!
A LITTLE DISCONCERTING—
Just how—dismayed!
I felt
on the street—this navy gray morning
by the early
sight
of so many dispossessed
pastel popped balloons—
pink ones
and yellow
and cheery faint blue—
all littering
the pocky old sidewalk—right next
to the stoop—
where some weather-
red homeless
man—or another
lay drunk sleeping.
I felt
on the street—this navy gray morning
by the early
sight
of so many dispossessed
pastel popped balloons—
pink ones
and yellow
and cheery faint blue—
all littering
the pocky old sidewalk—right next
to the stoop—
where some weather-
red homeless
man—or another
lay drunk sleeping.
Monday, August 18, 2014
GAUZE
The pale lonely child
of monday
morning's mind
that I seem to
be living—so dimly
inside of
must be
feeling foggy
slow
and serious
as an ugly plaster
cast today—
underneath
its thick
narcotic dome—lugubrious soup
of shapeless clouds
puddles—
unimaginatively still;
and probably somewhere
off
and unseen—even
the brightest—
and most
unselfish of songbirds
is saving
his usually—generous breath.
of monday
morning's mind
that I seem to
be living—so dimly
inside of
must be
feeling foggy
slow
and serious
as an ugly plaster
cast today—
underneath
its thick
narcotic dome—lugubrious soup
of shapeless clouds
puddles—
unimaginatively still;
and probably somewhere
off
and unseen—even
the brightest—
and most
unselfish of songbirds
is saving
his usually—generous breath.
Friday, August 15, 2014
SHELL GAME
The poem—in the middle
has been there
since high school—
it knows quite
a rather
impressive little
and means
exactly—the halfway-
decent
and clean things it says.
On the other hand—
the one
on the far end
probably contains it all—but seems
to say
what it means
with unbecoming gravity
and much
too much—finality.
Then there's
that poem—up closest to you;
soiled—it seems
to know
that it knows
the little
dull
grubby
things that it knows—but thankfully
it chose—
to lie—and lie lots!
and it hopes
to high hell—that you'll
pick up on it.
has been there
since high school—
it knows quite
a rather
impressive little
and means
exactly—the halfway-
decent
and clean things it says.
On the other hand—
the one
on the far end
probably contains it all—but seems
to say
what it means
with unbecoming gravity
and much
too much—finality.
Then there's
that poem—up closest to you;
soiled—it seems
to know
that it knows
the little
dull
grubby
things that it knows—but thankfully
it chose—
to lie—and lie lots!
and it hopes
to high hell—that you'll
pick up on it.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
PILLAR
The bright and fluid
wind today—
it booms
and it—bids me
as it
ever has:
Live like me!
Be free! Be free!
To get filled-
up and get
stuck—or worse!
to be
led!—those heavy
conveyances are
surely paths
to stillness—to death!
But by now—I've learned
how
not to be moved
by such hollow
manipulations
of the air; long have I stood
in the same place—
on exactly
the same
day—muttering
the tough
straight up-
and down
immovable truth—to live
to always
continue to live—is exactly
to obey
the secret
most—inflexible
thing there is in me;
a need—
to spit
salty into
the oncoming wind
and then—to just
remain perfect-
ly still—
while the
sting
returns
home—to hit
the rock it came from.
wind today—
it booms
and it—bids me
as it
ever has:
Live like me!
Be free! Be free!
To get filled-
up and get
stuck—or worse!
to be
led!—those heavy
conveyances are
surely paths
to stillness—to death!
But by now—I've learned
how
not to be moved
by such hollow
manipulations
of the air; long have I stood
in the same place—
on exactly
the same
day—muttering
the tough
straight up-
and down
immovable truth—to live
to always
continue to live—is exactly
to obey
the secret
most—inflexible
thing there is in me;
a need—
to spit
salty into
the oncoming wind
and then—to just
remain perfect-
ly still—
while the
sting
returns
home—to hit
the rock it came from.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
RHAPSODY NO. 2
Cool blue daydream
of
wednesday morning—enraptured as
faraway
white clouds
wiggle
and
practice gymnastics—
across a posh but
still
impoverished-
looking mat of
lustrous heaven—I cannot even
halfway-
imagine!—George Gershwin scribbling
a single additional
note of—
trifling
orchestra music.
of
wednesday morning—enraptured as
faraway
white clouds
wiggle
and
practice gymnastics—
across a posh but
still
impoverished-
looking mat of
lustrous heaven—I cannot even
halfway-
imagine!—George Gershwin scribbling
a single additional
note of—
trifling
orchestra music.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
SACRAMENT
How could
the only
good difference—between
say—Christ Almighty!
and
a little chilly
pallet—of red perfect
plums be—just
that one
of them
was chosen to die—and the other
to die—
at just
the right time?
GORGES
Bullocks! to big
dumb rocks—
and sucks!
to never-
crying islands—
today—let's be
canyons;
deep and laughing
and so
empty—it'll be
eons
before we'll ever
even know—
what on earth
it is
they've thrown
into our
endless
windless soul—
let alone
decide—whether
or not
to cry a little
river-
bed about it.
dumb rocks—
and sucks!
to never-
crying islands—
today—let's be
canyons;
deep and laughing
and so
empty—it'll be
eons
before we'll ever
even know—
what on earth
it is
they've thrown
into our
endless
windless soul—
let alone
decide—whether
or not
to cry a little
river-
bed about it.
Monday, August 11, 2014
GIFT TO COME DOWN
Listen!—the muffled
morning
prayer—of
a little
sleeping animal
rasping small faraway
breaths over the commingling
shaker tune
streaming humbly
by on the radio
and the soft buzzing
drawl of
the next room's
air conditioner—
is starting
to sound a bit like—
Take care! not
to appear
too grateful—for all
of these wonderful
things
that you've got;
lest you run
the mortal
risk—of forgetting
to exercise
thanks-
giving for
the much more
blessed fact—
that you don't always have
to use
each
and every
one of them all—at once!
morning
prayer—of
a little
sleeping animal
rasping small faraway
breaths over the commingling
shaker tune
streaming humbly
by on the radio
and the soft buzzing
drawl of
the next room's
air conditioner—
is starting
to sound a bit like—
Take care! not
to appear
too grateful—for all
of these wonderful
things
that you've got;
lest you run
the mortal
risk—of forgetting
to exercise
thanks-
giving for
the much more
blessed fact—
that you don't always have
to use
each
and every
one of them all—at once!
Friday, August 8, 2014
POEM FOR WHO'S LEFT-HANDED
Some precious mornings—your
mind
will feel half
like a huge
and perfectly twelve
sided sky-
blue diamond—
but many other
times—it'll be
simultaneously—
just so
clear! how
precise-
ly—
cartoony that sounds.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
THESE ARE THE DAYS MY FRIENDS
Inching along
distracted and thinking
hard about funeral
music's
proper function—
I almost stumble completely
past a single
gaunt songbird—silent
because he's deftly
and—repeatedly puncturing
holes
in a
fat green caterpillar—
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
JUDO
It takes
less
skill—than sheer
patience
not to miss—the wiry
but brawny
young athletes who balance—
such kind and gentle-
looking
mesh shorts
with those stiff black
back
braces they wear—loafing around
in excellent diagonals—
like true
professionals! just for a few
moments more—there
in the transient
midmorning shadows—generously
cast by several
barely legible—neon
Mike's
Furniture store signs.
less
skill—than sheer
patience
not to miss—the wiry
but brawny
young athletes who balance—
such kind and gentle-
looking
mesh shorts
with those stiff black
back
braces they wear—loafing around
in excellent diagonals—
like true
professionals! just for a few
moments more—there
in the transient
midmorning shadows—generously
cast by several
barely legible—neon
Mike's
Furniture store signs.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
PHENOTYPE
How furious!
and how
infuriatingly few
are the things
you can
know—deep deep
down
in your soul—
without first
taking
some book
or other's
word for it—not to mention
secondarily—
for what
on earth those are!
BECAUSE IT'S ALL ALLOWABLE—
Today—just be grateful
you're not
what remains of—
a rainy-white and off-
yellow chicken egg—
smashed and spread
thick on the glum
gumspotted sidewalk;
just think—
even after the chance
you never had
got wasted—somebody clumsy goes
and botches
your best crack at purgatory!
you're not
what remains of—
a rainy-white and off-
yellow chicken egg—
smashed and spread
thick on the glum
gumspotted sidewalk;
just think—
even after the chance
you never had
got wasted—somebody clumsy goes
and botches
your best crack at purgatory!
Monday, August 4, 2014
SYSTEM CALIBRATION
Glory be—to all these weary
monday
morning crumpled but
willing employees—
conspicuous pink
blots in the low fog trundling
past me—each clutching
such an immense-
looking
mug of heavy coffee—that he
or she—seemingly might need
the help of a quick
cup of stiff
joe—just to get through the whole thing!
monday
morning crumpled but
willing employees—
conspicuous pink
blots in the low fog trundling
past me—each clutching
such an immense-
looking
mug of heavy coffee—that he
or she—seemingly might need
the help of a quick
cup of stiff
joe—just to get through the whole thing!
Friday, August 1, 2014
MOTIVATIONAL CARROTS
Attention—all you poor tired
American friday
morning masses;
all you wiry
baggy runners and eloquent
whining arch-achievers;
all you tan and
furious
and pungent dogwalkers;
all you high-volume trash-
brokers; pro-
risk and fair-
trade and low-
fat investment bankers—all this nice outdoor furniture
is pleasant-
ly very
unashamed
to announce—there is
only one—little tiny
epic
step—left remaining
before breaking—and it's
just the one!
immediately following
the one
you're currently under-
taking.
American friday
morning masses;
all you wiry
baggy runners and eloquent
whining arch-achievers;
all you tan and
furious
and pungent dogwalkers;
all you high-volume trash-
brokers; pro-
risk and fair-
trade and low-
fat investment bankers—all this nice outdoor furniture
is pleasant-
ly very
unashamed
to announce—there is
only one—little tiny
epic
step—left remaining
before breaking—and it's
just the one!
immediately following
the one
you're currently under-
taking.
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