Friday, August 29, 2014

LITTLE BACKBONE

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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!

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.