Friday, December 03, 2010

Tea Party joke

A democrat, a republican and a teapartier walk into a bar. The democrat orders a beer, the republican gets whiskey and the tea partier asks for a glass of mule piss. Why? Because he's a fucking idiot.

Sunday, November 07, 2010

Here's one from Spain, 2003

meandering lost
tossed from river to
raft
daft, insensible in
my bed, staring, waiting
thinking
too much of
nothing
dreams in the shapes
of bowls bought in
Mexico or feathers
picked from fallen
birds. my boat
rocks again, like a
cradle, this bed my
child-mind cries out. oh
for a little tenderness, a little
love." but the river doesn't
answer, my bed-boat is still
comfortable and I pull the
covers up and over my head
daylight savings had fallen back/
and so had I/
to bed/

It's incredibly dreary/
at 4:53/
and bells tolling/
from where?/
the church by USF/
up on the hill?/

Now sirens/
and the banging of kitchen cabinet doors/
downstairs/

Saturday, November 06, 2010

2003

blisters on my arm(s)\
I'm laying in bed/
I'm lying in bed/
don't believe a word/

I wish I had the/
twelve hundred dollars you owe me/
so I could check it off/
the list of things I'm pissed off/
about/

nothing seems meaningful/
or real/
nothings seems like/
anything worthwhile/
is that a function of age/
she said you are bitter/
but what does she know/
she's twenty eight years old/

Oh, and she's hot/
in that kind of smart/
good girl kind of hot/

what am i writing about/
it's 12:50 am/
Rene is flying in tomorrow am/
with his new girlfriend/
from Clisson/
France/

"i like her"
His mother said. Pause
"Better than the other one."

He told me/
If we hang out at the train station/
we might see his dad/
seemed like a good way to spend an afternoon/
although it was fucking freezing out/

I guess that's what they do/
in Great Neck/

I met his brother/
before the car crash/
working on his computer/
at home/
there were/
lots of papers/
all over the place/

I traveled/
with "the other one"/
in a little sports car/
from Salt Lake City/
to Jersey City/

I wanted to kill her/
I should have wanted to fuck her/
but I didn't/
I wanted to kill her/
I liked the dog/
more than her/

he buried himself under/
all the stuff in the backseat/
he wanted to be hidden/
he didn't like cigarette/
smoke/

She didn't have enough money/
coming from Vegas/
she needed my bag of cash/
made from/
growing weed/

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

following an uncorroborated misgiving
he spent his nickel
on a bottle of has beens

Sunday, May 16, 2010

I'm remembering nothing
I'm broken on the shores of my own emptiness
it's not a peaceful thing

forget the commercials
you don't know what you read
you are only forgiving yourself
for crimes committed

happy smiles and drunken laughter
costumed gaiety swirling in the summer to be
fog
you are alone

I planted a basket of waste in my brain
and it bloomed
almost every day

sorry I was so turned the channel
looking for something

Friday, April 16, 2010

fortuna Obligato
the isle of capri
is lovely this time of year
standing on a hill top
with the ocean breeze
no sign of Tiberius or
Tyco Brahe
only a lone hunter with a shot gun
chasing a floundering pheasant
born and raised in a cage the bird(we are later told by the man at the church) was shipped from the mainland (Naples?)
to be released and hunted.
Now the bird is laying in the grass
and the hunter is gesturing with his
rifle.
He wants me to act as his bird dog
and roust the bird into flight so he can shoot it.
I jump around swinging my arms and yelling but the bird just lays there quivering
in fear wondering what this crazy American is doing. I indicate to the Italian that the bird ain't goin' nowhere.
He runs up, jumps on the bird tucks it under his arm and silently
departs through the grass and down the hill.
We decide to go to the same restaurant as the previous night.
The linguine with clams was so good I have to have it again.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Girl Scouts

Growing up in a college town in New Hampshire they knew her as a child, before she grew up and became, for a short time, the lover of the renowned reclusive writer.
There are photos of her at the girls events. In one she is smiling while the birthday girl, in cats eye glasses, holds a large unwieldy angel food cake. In another the girls, in their girl scout outfits, are walking past the church on a spring day. The troop leader, looking nervous and slightly blurry, has closed her eyes.

Florida 1966

A color photo of children in a boat being dragged by a porpoise or dolphin.
The children are laughing.

Friday, February 26, 2010

oh and la dee da to you

fractal boozing
the hem line is too wavy
I'm ensconced in perspiration
staring at your butt
I'm frozen in the trees
staring at the waning moon
walking on the sidewalk
someone wrote 'this city sucks'
someone tried to scratch it out
no suckcess
I'm sitting on a big blue ball
at work
and the raining is hammering down
like in a Nick Cave song
I have my Itouch, my cell phone,
my keypass, my sunglasses
but it's fucking raining
there's a photo of me (Dale made it)as a
krill- kinda like a shrimp- my head superimposed
on a krill.
stop it you're krilling me!
What happened to penguin after he won the lottery?
He became a krillionaire!
black curlie hair
over the top of the cube
he's bouncing again
and when he drinks he smacks his lips and goes
'aaah'
bang them chains motherfucker!
I built a magnetic papercup head man
and put art on the corners of the wall
with more magnets
drew a dog with dry
erase marker on the window
overlooking remote Oak town
bored today
Friday
clouds overhead
weekend pending
landlord called said our neighbor
says we're stalking him.
He's CUCKOO fucking nuts
paranoid little twerp.
haha he's trying to get money
out of the landlord
he's already bleeding his housemates
and he doesn't even live there anymore.
he's filming us- he put a camera on the roof of
his ex-wife's building
across the street pointed at our living room.
He said we were pouring water on our floor so
it would pour into his room.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

what a gallant Thursday!

Forwarding pathetic Tiger
the tigger non biased wood
into the rough
overlooking the farm-aid wilderness smiles
stanching the blood from a
brood of hen-egged pituataries
remotely firing on talibic suppurants
dismally fortified in walmart hajibs
and debating droid vs iphone - how depressed are you?
hah not nearly depressed as
my left toe motherfugwah
I bought the autobiography of
Black Hawk for six dollars in a
used clothing store on Divisadero
from a girl named Liz with
the most eyes
beautiful eyes
and again in cubed work
environ taking paper use surveys
and eating cheap chinese;
fried rice with eggplant and tofu.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Leonard Cohen Out Hunting

Leonard Cohen is
shooting rabbits
with an over under shotgun
and singing a lousy tune

I'm swaying to religion
I've got Nova Scotia eyes
I'm peeling the bark
on a Barca lounger

I stopped the gas from
pouring down my leg
lit a cigarette and
got burned

A cloud is forming by the river
the cloud is smiling at me
I'm shying away from tentative decisions
I'm remorseful for hurting
cardboard boxes

Leonard Cohen is throwing up
after eating a rabbit carcass
he says he's going to hike
8 miles today
big deal.

I've seen it all
I will see it again
i'm stepping on a magazine cover
of some movie stars face

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Somewhere some time.





On the plain of Nazca I stood and
waited for alien transport.
I lit a cigarette
and stared thinking
somewhere
some time
they've got to come.
I burrowed into the
sheepskin coat I had purchased
outside Cuzco
and stared at my companions.
El Ficuna was an eighty year old black man
with a habit of saying' whatever floats your boat'.
his daughter, Maria Conchesa Ribaldo smoked a pipe
and swore continually
"fuck you you old fart"
There were several others; a teacher from Lancaster Pennsylvania, a retired auto worker from Michigan, a Baptist pastor from Kennebunkport.
We had been promised salvation from this planet by an alien ship that would whisk us to another planet. The person who made this promise had collected our money in the hotel lobby and shown us blurry pictures of what he said were irrefutable proof of
the alien landings.
The guidebook said he was a notorious fake but was worth the money to go to the plains. I knew I shouldn't have dropped acid but I did anyway.
I kept thinking about the lime in coconut song. Something about el Ficuna made think of that commercial on TV years ago and the voodoo quality of the actors voice.
"Hey this is fucking bullshit."
Maria Conchesa was staring at me.
Her face was twisting slightly and had the slight cartoon quality that a good hit of acid can impart on those near you.
"What's wrong with you, you haven't said a word in like an hour?"
"You put the lime in the coconut and stir it all AROUND." I sang my response and then started giggling uncontrollably. I laughed so hard I had to lay down.
"Damn white boy is out of his gourd, maybe them aliens are around here." She took a drag off her pipe.
She had nice legs and from my vantage point I could look right up her skirt and see
her panties. Not that I cared, my whole body felt like rubber where i could feel anything and I had that odd LSD taste in my mouth. I realized I was still laughing and stopped.
Far off across the plain there were small dark figures waving at us.
"I wonder who those people are.' No one had mentioned them. I had seen them for a while, way off in the distance and hadn't thought anything about it.
The sun was shining very brightly and there was maybe one or two small clouds against the dark blue of the high altitude sky.
"Hey, who are those people over there? " I asked no one in particular.
"What people?" The auto worker from Michigan asked me, sounding concerned. Like he was thinking the banditos were coming with machetes to butcher us out here on the cold plain, steal our money and probably bugger us.
"Over there, right there. See? They keep waving."
The others crowded around.
"Where?"
"I don't see any one."
"Me neither."
"what are you talking about? There's no one over there."
They all wandered off except Maria who lay down and used my back as a pillow.
I was laying on my stomach watching the small figures.
"You don't see them either?" I asked her.
She laughed.
Her head felt good resting on my back. The sun was too bright against the ground.
The small figures were dancing around in the distance, occasionally waving at me.
'Maybe I'm seeing trees or bushes or something, I thought although there weren't any growing on the plain.
"I'm going over there." I told Maria.
"Over where the "People" are? She asked.
"Yeah. Over where the people are."

Sunday, January 17, 2010

I dreamt that I was insane. And everything I did
in the dream was tinged with an electric
unreality.
Wandering from scene to scene- I don't remember any of them except the first:
sitting naked in public and thinking about a certain friend
who it would be awkward to have see me like that and
of course this person immediately
showed up.
And the last when I awoke to find myself
not insane
like dreaming about getting all kinds of fantastic things
and then waking and realizing you don't have them.
Rain dripping down
outside.
Over a pork roast
meditation in schools
was discussed
I didn't mention meditation in prison
the pork roast was delicious.

Juicy fruit painting and dog shit shoes

I am sleeping without sheets
in the middle of
a raining day. They
say that it's an el nino
event.
My stomach wanders from worried
to more worried. It doesn't seem worth it, to
worry so. I don't know why I do it and I can't seem to stop.
I hear the tap tap tap of the water dripping by my window and
a young neighbors muffled voice. She's saying something but I'm not
sure what it is. they must be outside smoking.
I let her borrow one of my paintings.
I came home very drunk, threw up in the back yard and got dog shit on
both shoes. I didn't notice until the next afternoon.
In between I let her borrow the Juicy fruit painting.
She told me later they don't package it like that any more.
She tried to buy Juicy fruit gum but it wasn't the same.
I bought new shoes, the same kind and put the dog shit ones in the
box and left them on the street. The next
day just the lid of the box was there.
Sunday morning
laying in bed
drank three bottles of wine
with the pork roast
last night
talked about creme colored tuxedos
and shoes that come with the rentals
smoked numerous cigarettes
with the window open onto Clement St.
a light breeze blew the smoke back
at us. talked about seeing Mike Doughty do a show
in Latrobe (where they make Rolling Rock)and
listened to his songs "from his heroin years".
Dan's sister is working for Family Guy now
she's a go getter but they plan for her to be a writer
They said Danny was all over Shannon
That's why I don't let him hang out any more
He doesn't understand the social landscape
The plan is to have a window duck party
and do a wine tasting to choose the wine for the wedding.

Monday, January 04, 2010

returning from swillville
he looked like a character from
a bad saturday morning cartoon
the bad guy
with silver tonic
grey hair
I know, I'm no fun anymore, my paintings don't talk
I just buy expensive old guitars
and wish my foot didn't feel like rubber
I sleep too much
exercise to infrequently
think too much
share too much and too little
I looked at the pictures and thought
what the fuck where is the joy ha ha
I'm not making this shit up
it's as real as a fucking deer tattoo on a hipster's ass.
stay now dear lady
let the light in
wait for the sound of the train
take the dog for a walk
drink a Pepsi
blow the futile horn
for all the lost souls