Monday, April 25, 2016

the tired ache
         so blooming
                   steps of grey
                          seeing the dry sound
                                 relief is the sky
                                          women stare at you
                                                  the realization of too much sleep
                                                           the cement is cracked
                                                                 a bicycle rider on a busy sidewalk
                                                                         too many days in a row
                                                                              a child's indian headdress and tomahawk
                                                                                   we burst forth
                                           
               bent over time
       to analyze
 the nature
  of thoughts
         so we get lunch
   nicoise
         but no wine
            qu'elle tragedie
                   mon dieu
                            I drink glass after glass of cold water
                                       then off to the cafe le vie
                                               for double espresso
                                                             

Sunday, April 24, 2016

provisionary
   cinema
                   ancillary
                         cross process
                                        some see
 and some say
           the sky is too dark
          so for now
we drink
   on ice
             pernod
absinthe
      we watch for
      the end
of the movies
            stop your car
get out!
       we order milk duds
                and framboise
                        you smoke a cigarette
                              
I watch a dog
   sniffing around
the scene ends with an explosion
  deux ex machina
        we catch the bus home
      
across 
             the crossword 
                rythmn 
perfunktory 
  bass n 
  drums
                   a three letter word 
    for a noise 
                
 







I came from the white world
            snow covered donuts
                    and lima beans
                                    culberwurst  
                          and sneakers -
                                the knees of my jeans
                               were either blown out
or on their way

there was no conflict
it was all conflict
   - not the jeans
 we drove foreign cars
   Datsun, Volkswagen, Peugeot
      we did have a 1965 chevrolet fleet side
            when we moved to the country of
                 cattle farmers -  ranchers

I pitched, played first base
        first year of high school I was a catcher
      Steve Dickinson had a sick dropball
it would fall off the table
   - but I was skinny, bookish, and stoned
                   listened to Dark Star
                         reason tatters
and read The Basketball Diaries

...
                                

            
     
the weather 
was 
 and the wind 
 too 
            we slept 
                     in the daytime 
   did you

Saturday, April 23, 2016











collapsible
enthusiasm
 we wandered by inflated bunnies
     en route to stoic psychedelia
              two pence six pence each day
      maybe a change of scenery
 would make a difference

            

Friday, April 22, 2016

as the 
Houghton Mifflins
        dunder headed 
       primrose 
 robotics 
                        weave a weary 
                                     apology
                   please see 
chapter 12 
          lets all open our books to
                    the lavatory is out of order on this floor
                    so please see 
      arms sales to Saudi Arabia 
   and the LGBTQ concerns
           the rose is dead 
    say goodnight sweet flower

 
 

Sunday, April 10, 2016

the creature comforts
lay
   beside the thought
 we are all doomed
 and what was the result


we are all doomed
    something
was happening
slowly
and by
crooked degrees


we accepted the morose
profligacy
    in 5 star
                    tourniquets
 to save the
 limb
     hand?
what hand?

Thursday, April 07, 2016



















slow motion
heat
 sweating in sleep
   scratchy
   drinking lemonade
     stomach too big
   staring at computer
the science of
the art of
   the scenery
   seemingly
 intransigient
        (stratum, strata - say why)
  still hot at 
4:37 am
    texting Nantes, France
but nothing
   I see a forest
             but there's no trees
                             Smokey sez





#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@@#




The bend in the
spoon

matched his thoughts
                   his hair was oily though
    he felt grubby
   and unloved
    and it was RAINING
        and he couldn't get the game on


but he
    knew
he was just
 a tiny
     blip
in the remote
recesses of nothingness
      well somethingness
some small something
        which felt like a goddam rock in his shoe

fuck!


Still
besides the passing breeze
such a lousy word
  breeze
freedom
   fallacity
       fallstaff
          feromone
             (sic)
                 sybillant
                    Sibelius
                       piano
                                 put me to sleep
                                       that's ripe
                                          to be had
in the pickled
mind
 I'll sing a song to the sea 
  and wash these 
    sadnesses
           , sucks


                                       
$&$$$&$&$&$&$&$&$&$&$&$&$&$&$&$&&$&$&&$&&$&$&&&&$&$&&$&$&&






who cares
 about it anyway
    the dust
the chrome
             the late nights
                          the taxi
the star studded cast of
            the streets
        one day we'll see
                             some dirt
                                        on our hands
                                               and we'll drink
                                                      strong whiskey
                                                                and sing
                                                                      to the jukebox
                  
     

*(*(***(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(**(**(*(((**(((*****************************





Spendy 
   trendy 
   nice ticket out of here 
                         her purse has lipstick in it 
                                        the old mans suitcase 
                            smelled like Pall Malls 
    the keys were stuck between the emergency brake and his shoe
    still
it was a beautiful October day 
  one that reminds of 
                                           orange and black construction paper cut outs 
       of turkeys 
    witches 
     and pumpkins 
but now it was Canadian Club whiskey with 7-Up 
   and cheeseburgers in the dining car
           
         

 








Friday, April 01, 2016




















(They are coming!)

















Waking in a bed
         giant dip in the middle
looking out the window
to a scene from
            the 16th century
      in Verona
 the light is the same
     the stone walls
  bleary eyed and hungover
      the pensione has bathrooms down the hall
         you walked into a family's living room
Buongiorno!