D A R K J O K E

DARK JOKE

It went

That after horrible or violent events,

As a cruel way to vent too serious grief

& to take the pressure off some,

Dark jokes will soon surface. Then spread.

To workplaces, as casual talk, yes,

Plus, throughout campuses.

Though not through the usual mediums, this time./

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I find it kinda funny when odd fears are realized

By the armed

Violence enablers,

Hoarding their hidden caches of

FearFirePower/.

When the same crack team

Of govt.-trained troups

So successful far from home

Do go door to door At home,

Search warrant OK’d by presidential decree,

To go in, and go under underwear drawers,

Rifling for rifles;

Masturbatory safe dolls. Icons, even./

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But at a time before that time,

We’ll drop by the plush residences

Of our adopted Representatives,

Pay ’em a visit,

Packing.

Nothing melodramatic

Tight white shirts so they know

We’re carrying a friend.

We’ll mention

That though a lot of commerce has come,

A lot of exchanges, agreed & understood,

This time there’ll be no threat of voter retribution,

This time they just might do the right thing.

We’ll mention how wrong decisions

Made  might mean

Not seeing

One’s big boat, or golf clubs,

Or mistress, or ” Rainy Day” fund

Tomorrow, or even ever again./

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Then, these same guns that this time surely helped ensure

A democracy we could live with,

Would go with the rest.

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.Half a laugh I guess.

HER SHADOWS -for full moon Friday13th

from “The Seventh Victim”

in honor of the (bad)Dreamland of Val Lewton

who blocked out such fear-laden imagery in his Noir

(OH  Chiaroscuro!) & also succeeded. I think, in blocking out that golden hour that film makers look for,near dusk,

when the light is just right to clearly convince us all, on film

“There’s Beauty, There’s Good, There’s Hope.”

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.                                            HER  SHADOWS

When the time is right

The camera Artist  blocks out,

Frames, focuses, re crops,

To go  on his very own shadow chocked shot

Oh, he shapes the shadows for

Her, a  ruined running fear-filled fatale

who can only be, somehow logically, lured  into her shadows

(within an illogical hidden zoo)

Where at least one beast pursues her

fast footsteps,furiously echo just farther back in the dark

synchopated chasesteps/ high heels on one end of wet streets, & pursuit

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She must be drawn to

She must be lured to

She must fold into

Saving Grace shadows

Persistent Pests

I’ll try to mollify my nightside gnats.

I’ll placate  the buggers

I’ve waved them away

Short of swatting them dead sure  away

They’ve plagued me

Was that buzz   there in my ear

 

They’re watchers  They’re  warners

And judge me until I won’t budge, then I budge

They’ve plagued me. My problem.

I’m sick  by and of them.

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Flowtron 2-Acre Bug Fighter

(Rollback) 229.00

Walmart  Ad

L I L T

               L I L T

Sweeter than the precious tiny

Melodic Asian lilt,

That child-waitress,

Specific question still

Asked periodically at our table,

(she has

cool bangs & horn-rimmed glasses)

& ”Hot tea?”

She surely should be in school

But she’s all the family business has

To talk to the customers

In their native language.

“Hot tea?” Forever memorable.

Sweeter than that

When you thankfully then

Lean closer again

In yr. achingly fetching

Nightgown

(yr. bangs cooler)

I watch yr. lips & hear

“Tea, Dear?”

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..

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All my thanx to sunni for forever encouraging me to dream/ i LOVE YOU

PSALM FOR SUNNI

I  should  share

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the one sacred secret

it’s true that I love you. You.

from every crows nest  to airy cloud crests

in exaltation  I’ll be (exactly) True

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by all my breath I call

cacophony  worth  wording

I’ll trill hard truths until they soften

I’ll fill all air, alerting

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“It’s true I love you. You.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

P A R I S

I LONG to stay stabbing, & stay above

The sullen, crestfallen  long run of things.

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ALONG our river, a song, not near, comes outa corridor

Firelight on a black and white picture. Above.

One  man  walks  on  red  leaves

In a black & white picture  of

The long run of things.

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A  LONE  man,  leaves,  and dawn

Draping him.  Not much

Escape for him, in the long run of things.

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Le pont Louis-Philippe vu à travers le pont Marie (version flou), circa 1935

[From the Réunion des Musées Nationaux]

T R A N C E

For you, I send strength,

Forbearance, and the trance of strength.

We’ll strive, well into our lives.

We’re aching…one more hour of strength.

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All the while, we’re ailing.

We’re back some, after each skirmish,

Some steps further from the endgame of the solace

From  embraces  within  darknesses.

As serviceman march, returning to a homeland,

All yearning…safe embraces in their homeland.

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For us, I accept strength,

Forbearance, and the trance of strength.

We’ll strive, well into our lives, together.

We’re asking…one more day of strength.

We plea..one more day of strength.

D I S T A N C E S

1st chance I was free, this morning

I tried to get you on the horn

You’re too far, two or three days away,

At least a half dozen states away.

That’s  a ways away.

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I would speak about weaknesses here.

I could talk about how bleak it is here.

Your laugh could alter things.

That’s a ways away.

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Those who know me best say I’m worst.

In the day, I’m dark.

My points of view are too sharp.

My brain is broke. They’re checking now, here.

“It’ll all be OK”,  I was taught to say,  but I fear

.

That’s a ways away.

NEW RULES TO TELL MY YOUNGER SELF

fear of fails will chafe yr idle safe

.

fear of fails will clasp yr shutters closed

but when all else  goes

Go chance yr best yesses

Before the time lapses

Before time is too still

Before it’s too still

U S E L E S S

“And in the end it all boils down/A useless bit of running ’round”,  Todd Rundgren, from “I Think You Know”

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My uneasy manner may wear
Against a midnight and on
Persistent are
Green bottle shards

again & again
Against a reef

a Lighthouse
over sees

yet overlooks

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