stop
th train
      where are we
 see that
 it looks
like sumthin
i've seen before
   railrd
xing
   stop
  we could
   run for the hills
   and then what
 don't talk
just dont talk
   are there indians
they'll scalp you
 i've already been scalped
too many times
   that backwater casino restaurant
        what
 i could eat a club sandwich
     it's tooo dark to eat
      shut up!
 you
  should buy a new car
     before you get hit on the head again
      which way
 don't matter
turn signal
is still broken
  and people (?)
don't reply
   but the red sox
have another sweep in sight


      

 

miffed
   muffed
     stooged
 & stymied
  the prince
of rhodedendrons
      steeped in lore
of goldrush
days
  pried
  from the dead cold fingers
thoughts
of love
  and swivel chairs

snoozing
on the backside slide
toward the differential
time moving in shifting gears
  the axis
     rotates and we all spin
hundreds of thousands
  the rocks wait us out
      good to see ya
see ya!
 turtles live the
non yertle
   existence
      i live in my shell
try to hurt me!
    just don't rotate me
sliding again toward
the cubic emissions mission statement
     but we breathe
don't we
   inside turtles

 
 

they were no
great shakes
     iridium
         720,000 cubic miles
  of
volcanic
  emissions
     
did em in
she says
 
scientists
married to theories
    like a woman scorned
or a man

 

what a dull
and
   subharmonic shaking
   "turn that shit off"
there are people
  trying to drink themselves to death
   quietly here
still
no word
I guess
   wtf
 haha
laugh it off
   the moon
is spent
   it lays on it's side
   and coughs
at Jupiter
  "goway! yer buggin me!"
  Jupiter heaves a sigh
shudders and looks the other way
  toward the sunset's carnival
    a bag of saltwater taffy
   by it's side
Jupiter that is
  not the sunset

dulcet tones
of
 Chicago
   announcers
or
maybe just the
crowd noise
    like
    white noise
"the ineffable query"
   that and two
soft-boiled
   eggs
    beautiful day
 for
the concert goers
in the park
   tomorrow
off to the land of heat
and sun
  dry dry heat
  and dust
packing up the mom unit
   to go to
assisted living
in town
  gotta hose down the old
Ruth B
 

the drifting
car thought
       love-
  something akin
 to a 63 fairlane
    4 door
what is memory
    i can hear
 bells
and machinery
    the whistle and some kind of birds
   it's a cool breeze
       spare the air seems gone today
            i'm drifting in a uselessness
coffee morning
  every day
 seems like a battle
    wtf

Random 

a bunch of hokey
balloons
stuffed into
the mouth of
a giant king kong doll
  he knew it wasn't real
 stepping on the platform
he sensed the eyes
of Sauron
watching him
 eyes? or eye?
i guess just eye
big one
flames

SF Summer is the winter of

across the
frozen
  breakfast
  landscape
      a Casper David Friedrich
  staring into the
    abyss
 of sky
   and bran flakes
 the toaster
is broken again
   but the broiler
works
   now
the kitchen is
 filled with smoke
  
 
 

genetic factors
reveal
  photic sneeze reflex
  but only when on
the Muni bus in
the early am -
  achoo!
other traits
analyzed:
1.Likeliness to have driven an AMC Pacer
  2. Inordinate cursing reflex
    3. Reader of droll novelettes
sounds dismal
  huh?
 moving on up
  gene pool-wise
 

    

  

 rando 

sleepy
 headed
     iceberg skies
   brilliant
 dissertation
of the probable causes
  the steam from the coffee
  the sideways glance
  the gallery with metal butterflies
  "We flew to Amsterdam together in the mid-eighties"
still the chocolate
was good
we didn't look back
  and now it's all about Italy
god help me
  we saw the Giottos
in the Cappella degli Scrovegni
  Leonardo cartoon in a dark room 
in the Uffizi
  Saint Anne
which one 
pointing to heaven
 "due capuchi!"
slam the cup down 
on the bar 
  and they are out
 passport stolen on a bus 
in Napoli
  lovely pizza ovens though
just wanted to get to the train station
  ripped off at the bank trying 
to get reimbursed for 
travelers checks 
   remember those?
then off to Nice 
  train stopped at the border 
  workers strike again 
two hour? 
"Je ne sais pas"
bused to Monaco 
  Bonco! 
 saw James Bond
in my mind's eye 
 straight to Paris after that
already went to Cezannes atelier in Aix-en-Provence
  now surrounded by suburbs
 cold in Paris 
African men selling 
  wind up birds
 dirty hotel 
strong coffee 
  and delicious croissants
Good bye continent from
Le Havre 
off to London

now is
soon
S is for stars
  see
see the miracle that is
   a sidewalk avalanche
   the fog
the fog
 the cold wind
and fog
  buy a nice nordic sweater
 tie the arms
around
your neck and
go to Ghirardeli Square
    see it's 1974
all over again
    or not
       definitely not

one
two
three
 motherfucking
concerns
  about this
or
that
or somebody's damn
dog
 and the guilt
because
oh I guess
I do a lot of complaining
 no dolmas in cans
this time
  tecates
 and
chips
 and I don't want to stare at the
 odometer
 to see how many miles
 I have left
and whom
I'm supposed to meet
    for lunch
downtown
so the light is still on
maybe I'll buy some new shoes
  Nobody
really cares
if you don't go to the party
(stole that)



   

banjohead
      bitter
fruit
   in a hot
can of worms
    barefoot and dirty
walking between the corn
   laughs
out
loud
   "D.A. Pennebaker!"
  cuts his thumb on the metal lid
   swears and puts on his
ear buds
  blood getting on them
"Hey let's get more beer!"
    runs off

it's a
    foregone
  extemporaneity
(not a word)
   "stop playing those
Neil Young songs, nobody likes that
slow stuff"
 "you just worry about hitting those drums, is that the hardest you can hit with those skinny little arms?"
 Josh just keeps playing eighth notes
  it's too hot in here

a cold summer
morning
                           monday
with sirens
  fire trucks
   and neighbors
 someone's listening
   to an old record
of billie holiday
  
  

i left you
in the
   ford fairlane
 six cylinders
  cassette deck
    bolted to the floor
underneath
    the drivers seat

fire on
the plain
   grandma's walking
     miles
  to hear joni mitchell