Monday, November 30, 2015

 for the 


  to his belief's survival


 it seems 

                                    all attempts 
         at Reason
  and will fight 
     until dead 
       against it.
the downside of the series
the fall of the briny 
the wake of Archimedes cup
a branch of Vesuvius
sheer longing in the face of torn nylons 
a ranch house in southern nevada 
the climactic irreverence of a singular event 

Sunday, November 29, 2015

the paint was chipping
   the peanut brittle days were over
     and nacho cheese chips days begun
he wandered Florence looking for a certain pinball game
  'they must have Addams Family'
     He didn't know any Italian
except abbodanza and ciao, bella
he said both a lot and got weird looks
   outside the piazza some young ruffians beat him and stole his phone
    perhaps my spaghetti days have begun he thought
  gypsy children carrying pieces of cardboard were to be avoided he learned
he found a Star Trek pinball game in the back of a bakery/coffee shop
 he spent so much time there they gave him a job
three months later he married the owner's daughter
     he learned how to make bruttiboni and canoli
he changed his name to Fabrizio which means skilled worker
but his friends still called him Roger
  later he acquired a drinking problem
he went to AA and kept drinking
his wife knew but his pastries were much better when he drank

with the fine acre of destitute beginning
with a stones throw from desire
the pass is a green highway
the green is black
and the end is anticipated 
like a dream 
the sunshine tells the story 
fog is the news 
and we stare at ourselves thinking 
how can we think these thoughts 
in the face of such stupidity
we stare at our breath as it leaves our mouths 
the cold is not news 
we dial the radio 
we stream the songs 
nobody says I'll drop a dime on you 
the cold is not new 
 the rain and snow 
the buzz of the airplane 
the smoke from another room
we fill glasses with whiskey or tea
the tooled leather 
we stand on the cement and watch
the television tell us things
violence is fear
fear is violence 
we have forgotten peace 
 we have lost the war
clear eyed 
broken tooth 
bindi smoking 
  the fly on the wall
      the gas lamp
                                                  nobody gets one over on Fred C. Dobbs 
   but the gold dust 
                                                     seems like a good day for a walk
                     I'm walking 
                 where is Italo Calvino
                            we almost got shot by a pheasant hunter 
           on the isle of Capri
       but we got a free lunch 

Friday, November 27, 2015

      baked & boiled
   the police are at your door
         so simply
       steer the ship
       who's banging
               there's a fire in the sky
          the clouds are singing
      swat at the angry fly
       sleep in the bed boat
                 the floating world
              the organism atmosphere self regulates
                       this floating world;
                   carry the knives
                                 carry the wooden shoes
                                     the ghosts are waiting
                               we join them
                                        the sky is awake
                                the floating bed boat
                            ON AMBIENT DREAM WAVES

Monday, November 23, 2015

the moon was following me
 through the clouds
   I turned the corner
in the shadow of a building
it went by
and smiled
Cold tonight
  cloudy and gray this morning
  but no rain
went for a walk this afternoon
sun came out
  leaves were beautiful
    turning red and yellow
 dropped off a roll of film
  person in line had a big bag of
    35mm film to process
  yay film!