“THEORETICALLY”
January 30, 2019
“This ole sot
Theoretically is empty,” he went,
“Momentarily anyways.”
Faces death, & all that rot,
Not to say, not so long before he’s meant.
He sifts scenery…all Regret.
But m’Lord of Mercy. .That scent!
“More of whatcha got,”
Forwarding his fine glass there,
“Don’t stop just yet.”
HOW THEN THE HEAVENS POURED
June 13, 2018
“I took a nap and wept for no reason”
~ Jim Harrison from Songs of Unreason
Should I get older
I recognize me, more blind,
Crinking my neck back, there, as
I look up at the cliff terrace
And at a windowed hideaway behind,
It’s not so unapproachably high,
Fixed over our Pacific, finally,
That we thought might couldn’t be.
Hard rain, hell, wept down a wet
That mixes well w/regret, on my shirt
.
2
.
One can look past all our four shoulders
From inside the glass wall,
(We sat back in our Adirondacks)
And maybe just make out
What we’re watching and talking about.
A man closely following his own footsteps
The long stretch of the shore,
But looked up at the both of us,
Hand in hand, and how then the heavens poured.
.
.
.
SHE WAS THE FIRST TO GO
August 18, 2017
It might have been one long neon light
In the laundromat that set her off
When it flickered & popped
At us/ All of us up late
Our eyes were hypnotized some
All bets were off
On what might happen
She was the first to go
To distract us from our books & hand-machines,
Pull us from our puzzles, also our magazines
Her saying all that nonsense fouled by fire
Interrupted that late night scene
Her calling names out
All intense, Her pleas
We stared some & stuck out that someone’d stop her
Her call to fallen reveries
Her own effin reveries
.
.
.
(2012)
IF I MINDED
June 7, 2017
I’ve been biding my live time
My trivial “real”-life trials
All the challanges this chuff can ignore
All the more he might’ve imagined
If i minded any more
For somehow here and not
For somewhere not
ASSIGNMENT BLAME
May 23, 2017
Still nights I will not change I will cringe
I’m tightly bound to make my inner fringe
Break down in private next door rooms
They’ll up & drop tears from my say they assume
I’ve meant no harm though my charm
Might be misplaced / an anvil fills my frail arms
.
.
.
“The Artist’s Dream” by Emil Holarek
AT TOMORROW’S WINDOWS
February 29, 2016
By Thursday
I should, surely
Feel fully aware.
.
They’ll mull some, say,
Seeing his stare.
There, unascertainable hazes
Of tomorrow’s torrents of rain
The throbs & throes
At windows
There, torments
There, painfully free
“Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”
~C.G. Jung~