October 16, 2012

All along the long boulevard,

This. & the next,  intersections,

All the lights  go fall to fire yellow.

I’m warned  on the timing  of untangling  my jam


I contend,


When  honestly watched,

Starts  in  intention.

When looked at, no nonsense,

Before it cums sneezing  out,

When all one world,  as it appears,

Is  appraised,

It’s  appeased

By  half hard facts

&  a ton of impressions

To   meagerly manipulate

A clay  reclaimed


October 5, 2012

We came early, & drifted off at the drive-in triple feature;

The last of which..the gist I guess..

A  religious  epic.

Though,  In this version

There’s a ghost in most of the rooms,

They’re suggested  each chapter.

The hero’s  a clown. & The man is a virgin.

He wears a bird bone  near his neck,

A leather bag, He has stowed in..deep..

Eleven numbers  &  notions.

Sure, he’ll ‘ suffer  predictable and/or intolerable


And when come  martyrdom,

We’re all safely asleep.


Big Moony Skies

October 1, 2012

I’ll give a knowing nod

To the brother inside the  IPod

“I rub my wounds with alcohol”

I love the sound of fuck all

I feel everything but small

Enraptured under big moony skies

Where prayers stand a chance,

Where joy awakens eyes,

Guts are calm, but  hearts  beat  restless

&  Dance as there’s  a man and moon romance.


September 28, 2012




.I hate that

It came out  not right

Translating  with all my might

I misspoke.. you mistook…

I’d cracked a crooked smile, not smirk

I’d factored in the farcical

Nature  of  nature.





It’s that  it’s sad that

Few hymns  from pews  will praise

Coincidented   chaos.

Sad, we’re not force-fed all the fanciful

Nature  of  nature.



September 17, 2012

I could, by unbinding, ease up by inches

I just could  cease finding my itches

Intolerable, and irremediable

It could  be that by trying

To untangle, to untie lines  and

That not only the knotted, like burls in an oak,

But all that nestles, like the nettles across my chest ache

I could, unbinding, unbuckle, unshackle some,

Unbridle  abit.

I  could  go.

If I wanted more vague distraction

That wouldn’t be a map

That I threw into our convertible

Onto yr adorable lap

With a compass

And all those stars

When  the company you keep

Must need to finally get a bead on,   and stay

The course  of his only way

Like Neutral Luck

September 15, 2012

Some souls surely cry

“..If it wasn’t for the bad luck..”

Break for a deepbreathe breathy sigh,

“..I’d have no luck at all.”

Look,  My luck is neutral.

It lies like algae

On secluded moon moody ponds.

It doesn’t flow, or creep.  I fell

FadeToBlack asleep on a chair;

My book & pen, and nearly me,  there

On to the floor.

Alone, on knee,  bent,

I’d known I  loved rehoarding

My words, and alphabets–

They’d shifted some,  and had come

To a new sense.


Would it likely be by odd luck?

Or meant as, also likely,




September 14, 2012


“The blind man loves you with his eyes, the deaf man with his music.  The hospital, the battlefield, the torture room, serve you with numberless petitions. On this most ordinary night, so bearable, so plentiful in grave distractions, touch this worthless ink, this work of shame. Inform me from the great height of your beauty.”

-Leonard Cohen, “Petitions” from Death Of A Ladies Man


September 13, 2012

I lost a friend tonight.

The fleshSTOP forever kind of loss.

When he didn’t show up at the job

He went  on & on  about leaving

& Joining his dream;  Free  in Amsterdam.

Friends from that job

Went and found his body.

He’d lived alone in his own woods

Since his wife died.

Yet I knew him to truly enjoy his day.

(He was ahead of me that way)

His own time he’d savor.

Complex gourmet foods he’d prepare for himself.

He’d  savor

Simple fairweather, days & nights, for himself.

Goddamn, he wanted

& Waited on Amsterdam,



RIP  Dave