as the sorrow
of resumes
filled
like a hot air balloon
in an Italian neighborhood
he thought of a man he knew
searching for his glasses amongst the papers and
manila folders, handwritten letters and envelopes
and the glasses, smudged and bifocaled
were resting on his forehead
he took a deep breath
knowing that balloons sometimes don't come down
despite the song

I watched a giant leaf fall to the earth it was mottled and yellow and red

and I walked these borrowed
roads diverged with the
baby smell of a yeast-ie
brew pub in my nostrils
counting the old fence posts like Robert Frost
poems

He drank too much
beer
whiskey
vodka
whatever

Hoboken?

it had the feeling of a bad omen(or bad poetry??)
"He moved to Hoboken"
a true life story

he lied

read about it in
in Newsweek another long line
of literary grifters

his hours
was that it?
but it wasn't
what he thought
he didn't know what
he was thinking when he
dropped his oj
and fell down on the sidewalk
he remembered thinking something
is wrong(italics)
I'm not that building
the one
with the sunshine on it
isn't right to my eyes,
my eye
that man
with the brief case
I'm not a shadow of a building
she won't understand
why I have a bullet hole in me

creamora/
Beelzebub
wandering
into
shots/
of jaeger
stoically
smoking
sinsemilla
and boring
us/
with stupid
medical marijuana
polemics/

Iggy Pop working at Gas/Mart

driving around the lake
watching the sky
for aliens or Gargamel
firing at police cars
with their sirens blaring
turning into gin and juice
with my mind on my money
we stop to get coffee
and cigarettes
Iggy pop is working behind the counter
his name badge says Iggy Pop
it really is Iggy Pop
we're embarrased by the whole thing and ask him
if he's ever met Todd Rundgren
He says he did in the mid-eighties in
San Francisco
but now
there's a line behind us so we say good by
"loved the stooges, man"
even though I never really listened to them
and we're back on the road
for some reason we start fighting
"that wasn't really Iggy Pop"
"yes it was!"
we stop talking. We're listening to the radio and suddenly
Lust for life comes on-
bomp bomp bomp bu bomp bomp bu da ba domp

'Here comes johnny yen again
With the liquor and drugs
And the flesh machine
Hes gonna do another strip tease.
Hey man, whered ya get that lotion?
Ive been hurting since Ive bought the gimmick
About something called love
Yeah, something called love.
Well, thats like hypnotizing chickens.'

I say "yes I have had it in the ear before"
I am just a modern guy

the road splits and we go to the
right
grandma's house
she's baking cookies and she has a friend
visiting, Mr Wolff.
He has weird gray hair and very large teeth. My friend notices them as she's taking off her beautiful red cape
What big teeth you have she says smiling
we decide to leave early
Mr Wolff insists we stay and stands in front of the door his eyes gleaming
rubbing his large hands together
I notice his hands have gray hair on them as well
a lot of it
I hit him in the head with one of grandma's lamps
he crumples like a Reeses peanut butter cup wrapper
we leave in a squeal of tires
"what about your grandma? " my friend asks
I start to reply when we hear the report of an automatic rifle.
"grandma used to work running arms to the Zapatistas."

Will the dead walk the earth again?

Bob Wilkins was a huge influence on my psyche as a youth. I watched him regularly on Creature Features and he would be in the studio and would talk about the films at the commercial breaks. He later said it was just him and the camera man in the studio and his goal was to make the camera man crack up. He had a very dry sense of humor -wicked dry. Bob- I hope to see you walking the Earth as the living dead. Moo wah hah ha.