Peruvian flake 

              Christmas 

                                                                    with pie lid charlie brown xmas tree ornaments 

say it ain't so 

    strike up the band 

       Buddy Emmons on pedal steel

Play it Buddy 

 from the Starlight Room 

  in beautiful San Francisco 

 it's cold out 

                  but we walk fast 

en situ
smoking and eating
T-bone Rasta Hat special
   brownie
      the heater is on
   lemonade tequila and ice
 riding out the end of the year
2015
See Ya! 
    

oh Lies

and Hate 

 Perfidy 

              is in there too 

            define great 

    she said

                            the red hats

                                         (Depardieu a Russian now,

                                      that fat drunken turd)

             a passing shot 

   the passing lane 

                                                     slow moving people stay right  

   we talk fast 

                                                      but we don't understand anything     

Puedo Hablar Mucho 

                              Pero No Entiendo NADA

                                see the way 

             they tell you 

                                      the fear 

                                                it's there 

the way they hold their Ketel one and tonic

                                                         the lime quivering  

     bullocks 

son 

                     ballsackian   

                            misogynist 

                      racist 

                   fascist 

                               grand manipulator 

                               Borat-esque

                                but Putin- real 

                              flying and diving 

                                  insulting 

and winning 

 insulting and winning 

fuck that asshole 

thats what they're saying 

    fuck that asshole 

        

 

Falsutations fellow ferrous bearing
  philatelists!
     Stand on ceremony!
       Awaken to the beating heart
           ten thousand sea creatures acknowledge you
              and thus it was seen
                  still you waited
                     believe in sonorific emptiness- the dry corn husk
                          of imperial certainty
                             believe in nonembraceable warfare
                                 a syntactic malamute
                                    chained to a breathing dragon
                                       the disencampment seriality of worn out
                                           paraphrases:
                                               Et tu, Brute?
                                                   there but for the grace of...etc
                                                       time waits for commercials to end
                                                           the avarice teachings of secondary religion
                                                               God is great, God is good
                                                                   Lord we breathe fire unto thee
                                                                       in hopes that this day
                                                                           this day
                                                                               is ever thus,
                                                                                   see?
           

the sun 

waffled 

 a thick syrupy 

 mess 

      the sky dripped 

 with nitrous funny car fuel 

we swam the river of solemn 

       entrance 

                                                           to the broken tiles of tomorrow's troubles

                     shopping for baffling material 

in anaerobic silence 

 was discomfitting 

                                                           still, marked insurgencies abounded 

                   new york times were had by all 

                                                      a prescient revival was acumenically disbursed

to the most deserving,

 as always

 

       

GRATEFUL DEAD at WINTERLAND 1977

SAN FRANCISCO
  is

    BEING KILLED!

      great GOD $$$$$$$$
 greedy

for MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE


   regular

people can't afford
  to
   stay
after
they get evicted
so someone can

SELL for MILLIONs
    can't blame people for wanting money
 
but the soul of the city

 is being sucked
              dry
                        LESS and LESS
reason to stay
 
         that's the way
it goes

 right?
             
FUCK THAT

If the fits
 of Nature love
such a poor expression
          for Pan wandering in
      the ruins
 you caused the grass
to sour
    and spoil the milk
            -we drank wine from a goats bladder
and slaughtered a lamb
             actually we ate crackers and
                          cheddar cheese
    and Monterey Jack
I knew the actual Monterey Jack
he lived in a rusty quonset hut
    -he got hit by a train while walking drunk on the tracks
    you can't hear the train coming
        the noise comes after
   Pan was playing a flute
       -it was not a pan pipe
regardless
  we couldn't hear it
either

some steady recourse for
your corporate success
    the bondi tram
      almost took Charlie away
 but it was beach weather like
EVERY DAY
    still things change
     my mother fell and broke her hip
she was being interviewed
 on the tv news about the fire
    but the firemen were
RIGHT THERE
 And then Lizzie moved to London
and the aryan cube-mates quadrant
  began to be unresolved
           we em-Bryce-d
the change
  (he had those incredibly blue eyes)
but all that money talk
 I guess that's what happens
when you have a baby

you asked if I had a girlfriend
   or a boyfriend
 and then suggested
         your older sister
thirteen years older
                   -I could go with her to the Dominican Republic
in April-
   But I like young women
 young and cute
  - oh you said
   she's married
   but you could take her away
         oh and she has two kids

for some /reason/

bereft

   keeps 

                                 coming to mind 

perhaps the cold rain                                    

               you tried to explain sleet -

                         we sided with 

           the morose 

     sleet is gods tears 

      you said 

   but you live in Oregon

 

       

The circus
like a loaded weapon
       the stream of water
pours through
the thoughts
of the elephant
  time is a marked man
   this makes no sense
     the bullet has eyes
for the strong live in weak houses
   say you are dreaming
and I will not
wake you
 and when the pain subsides
 the sky will open
with sleet
 so sayeth Algor son of Balgrunt 

across
the Rub-al- Kahli
   The Empty Quarter
   
raiding parties
on camel
  They had never seen a Christian before
the Sultan would kill any infidel
  
they found the watering hole
 but that was it
  no more for weeks
     

The droid

slept by a fallen menhir

it waited in alchemists patience

     dreaming of spiritual gold from lead

       the satyr,

one of a class of lustful, drunken woodland gods, 

watched from the forest 

his troop of ithyphallic male companions

had gone 

  to the beach for some volleyball

 

THE TREMOLO 

BACKBEAT 

                                           we sway in waves of stoned sound 

     feeling like the ground is moving

 undulating

 as the guitar crashes and burns                                                        

                      the drummer is a dented cymbal and rattly tom

     the bass player is a train coming in to the station 

 the singer is dead                                                                          

Long live the singer!                                      

a terrific force of
    Nature
pushed my mind to find shelter
   the gale force winds of your
    sorrow
 sent lightning bolts
     from the volcano
        mudslides of cynicism
           rankled
 we changed out of wet clothes
 and dried our hair with towels
the tv was on
    we made cocoa
   

As your thoughts
melt behind the sun
we stand and watch
the readymade
beginning
of an essential tawdry
mistake
   sympathetic
it seems understandable
the paint is not even dry
 and we sharpen the thoughts
yet
do not stand
in the shade
William Blake
  the sights are beheld
in misfit eyes
  and stolen from the cradle
 oh theres no ghost in the night
  we don't need ghosts
and they need us even less
  so watch out
 its meaningless
I know
  you know
where the time runs
   a million light years from here
    there's a guy selling hot dogs
   so
BUY ONE
  

mini chocolate chips
 and iced coffee
       for breakfast
               the sun is
not shining
    I've got three pairs of socks on
and a down jacket
    my sister just texted me;
If you had a tv you could watch Betty White!

     

  

Onward 

downward

upward

seams

or toil 

memory 

sinks

behave now 

seems

 right

like

the fly is 

growing

the

crow

flies

we are the 

seam

we try 

too hard

we block 

the clouds

we lift 

we sweat 

we toll

the bells

not for thee

not for thee

go now 

see the future

in the entrails

of the bull

the ides of December

 we grow 

like the sun

we fly thru space

at 600,000 miles

per hour

mote 

in the dust 

flaw in the 

iris

tell me 

now

where is Paris

the streets 

and swings

the 

random chair

I guess

what I'm saying 

is 

I need to 

get out 

of 

bed!

 

backwards 

walk backwards 

talk backwards 

think 

again 

yes 

backwards 

legs before feet 

hips before

torso 

breath

before 

lungs

thought before 

brain 

ever 

speaking 

our backwards

 thought 

 spilling 

it like food from 

the fork

the fork pulling the food 

from our stomachs 

 the hands 

slapping 

the child 

before she 

talks 

go backwards

again and again

speak backwards thoughts

again and again 

fill the gun with bullets 

to shoot ourselves 

again and again

you kill with a thought

 

relief!

oh plenty

                                   the canker of sinfullness

                                         marches to the drums

 the fife 

            the fiddle 

          LIBERTY 

       thy name is hallowed 

                       now hollowed 

                         the holy is the laugh

                         carefree  

                                   and easy?

diving up 

to the sky 

                            swimming in the bookstore!

   I can relate! Seriously

    there but for poverty go you and I

the work
of late
 has been
   a series
 of random
   thoughts
strung together
with no rhyme
 nor reason
in hopes that
 perhaps
some inner creature
might shine forth
like a beacon
   it seems though
 the creature is more drug addled than one would have hoped
  and the light is more like 
the flick of a bic in a dark alley
and
 for that
I apologize
to myself
and the world

   

some rabble
babble
echo
of
 the sonic
 distress monitor
   the lizard of back streets
say leather
please rearrange that
addled  twattled
 bi funk ian
    protozoa of my hip check
swivel suit - unzip
the twister
blister
mister man of rockingham
  say do i remind you
    of the
time we got lost
in Eastham?
   
   

wandering through leaf strewn memory
we sidled up to ambiguity
    this western-movie cinegraphics
          shoot em up
    with car chase scenes
you spilled your Sprite
   on the girl in the next row
      we ambled out
like two raccoons
on an evening stroll
   but we did stop for
Whoppers
or was it
 Milk Duds?
  hard to say
 memory is a fickle thing
  I know we spent all your money
 and had to walk home
 but it was lovely rain soaked evening
 

mal-shitty-ess,
 discontentiness,
  de-railified,
 de-fargo-filed,
    de-franco-philed,
 armisticeiness,
  sheer nyloniest,
   fracktually,
 e-bundantly,
atypically,
etc.
  
         

creative differences aside

 the revolution 

was 

left 

in the 

dust 

     the 

barefoot 

                peasants

walked

we 

  watched 

              our

                favorite

 show 

see?  

                        across the meadow  

    a rock wall

     a leprechauns circle 

     we did the do-able 

               forgetting and remembering 

                                you washed the car 

                         I made sandwiches

  whats next?

secondary euphemisms
 bi-morphic anomaly
      he sweated through his shirt
        and threw the orange peels on the floor
             there was no waiting
                the police cars were outside
                     he lifted the tunnel latch and dropped down
                        closing it behind him
he tasted the cool dark air.
                   

smokey top 

                        with corn bread

                         a greased filigree 

with a side 

 of anchovies 

                         and deep fried clams 

          the sound of tires being slashed

                                       some do and some don't 

              we all have to go home some time

             

                           

 

 

jews are not you
its never any good to talk about
unless you know, Isaac Bashevis Singer
his magician lover practical
wander

  in a book
       in two books
           in many many books
   I had a girlfriend who read
      Graham Greene's
  The End of the Affair
      for months
         until I got it
   but I guess I wasn't really
 paying attention

silly how we can fly through these books
     
 

the relentless
politics of swine
led to the slaughterhouse
       "they have no intelligence"
factoried
    systematic
     sylvestering
             i did i did
  see
 a putty tat
     feather flies out of mouth
paint a tunnel on the wall
   'the Future'
  meep meep
     ah what's up doc
(leaps back in rabbit hole)

the meandering Poseidon
    a ruefull disturbance
  tuna boat politics &
     secret signs from a hillside-
the chaste valet
parks his needs
    in the burrowing stoicism- see, the light
from the kitchen window
matching cups and saucers
  painted chairs
    don't brag
     it won't cost you a Hamilton

some said he always had a cloud over his head

Satsuma

       Satsuma 

              Satsuma!

          Haha

   S  atsuma                                          

Orange

blossom 

   flower 

tree

Feign 

       Stupor

                     Stupid mirror

torpor unfeigned 

                             slow to the inside 

                   And He's a Hoarder 

                For the win!

 ---the degree of fortunado
  mc sidewalk
streams
 of solemn silence
in the wake
 of the noise fronted
   cartel
 you are a bona fide
   tide of wishing
     the sunsets are
 gorgeous I hear
  somewhere the song is heard
in a corner bar
 or in a car radio
on the highway
with the windows rolled down
and the AC blasting
we can get away from this
 we can fly away
   or we can sit tight and
    listen to the glasses clink
and the laughter
for tonight
 and again maybe
                        tomorrow   - supercilious

cunt load 

   yer tales of whoa 

 are dimly lit passages 

of a nincompoop nabob's

                          interior bastardization/denial

bereft 

of the bequeathed 

with airs 

of flour 

and turpentines

an ascot de t bone steak

 the cook is remiss 

in his

\great god grill\

we have newgenerationfinance

  and chili crabs

     -contiguous
         cheroot-ski
 bailing on flooding
 sinking in the gloam
    smirking with venus
  the apple is far from the tree...
 - - - cold dead fingers.com- - -
sez
yer guns are for the taking
yer gunz are doing the killing
yer guns
are killing yer own children
13 9-11's worth of dead Americans
Thirteen 's
an unlucky number, see?
----pledged
mortificently in the hallway
 the towels were laid
 to catch the water
dripping from the ceiling
 dripping from the
stoic glances
  your car refused to start
 and your parents wouldn't call a cab
  we stole your cousins bike and rode to the
bar
we played Loretta Lynn
and The Cure on the digital jukebox
  and drank
until the rain stopped
your cousin called the bar and said the car was working now
 tomorrow we would catch the ferry
  back to the mainland
The grey
   Angels
Breakfast
Kafe mit brot
She said
Baden Baden
But the trains
Were not running----
the state is a dry match
waiting to be struck
   years of brush
  years of dry
  turned everything to tinder
 you walk out into the sun and
the air sucks the water right out of you
 we had a giant fire at a campground
    the wood was hard and dry
    we drank whisky
  we got into fights
  the pine needles laughed at us
 we were stupid----
I doused the fire
and stood
staring at an orange cat
 it was 86 degrees
 in the shade---We had a house in town that my dad had rented. It was late August when got there. It was hot but overcast. A man and a woman who lived nearby told us there was going to be a lightning storm. The man had thick glasses and was wearing polyester pants. The woman's hair was piled up high on her head. She said they were going to drive up to the hills to watch the lightning. My sister and I looked at each other and then we looked at my dad. These were the kind of situations that my father did poorly in but I don't recall what his response was.
death defying acts of wastefulness
incredible stunts of unsustainable energy consumption
mind boggling displays of everyday cruelty
greed of biblical proportions
it's really not much
fun
jews are not you
its never any good to talk about
unless you know, isaac bashevis singer
his magician lover practical
wander
GOP in a Mayonnaise Sandwich Islands

sing
of the munumunupukupukua'a
sweet silent
standard bearer
for the
islands

 

      

the Colt .32 had belonged
to my grandfather who died of a heart attack in Marathon, Florida in 1965

  When I was in high school
 my dad showed
me where he kept it and where the bullets were
  right next to the bag of pot he grew
    between the corn stalks
      in the garden
the pot not the gun
 I kept adding oregano to the pot
   as I pinched it
     - he didn't smoke it
   but I ended up smoking oregano





 

a poster of
 Richard Brautigan's
  Trout Fishing In America
was nailed up in the garage

the majority of 

         clean implacable 

  non - asian 

                         impresarios 

stranded in a sea of shopping carts

  does this follow 

 I read Moby Dick once 

        oh hecka simplified 

   we are the world 

                        we are the children 

   some gum sidewalk adventure 

                   sticks and thrones 

                        will break your heart 

                                not unlike love

            or Alzheimers

                  try to forget 

                                   the bad times

     sweet holy Jesus!

         

                      so little clarity 

in the over saturated info feed 

                                so little air to breathe 

on the screen 

on the screed 

 in the internet of people 

           truly viral 

infectious 

                   and unhealthy 

             look for the helpers,

                                              they're playing 

                                      at a theatre near you

oh the 

furious 

     divinations 

                          of  a stab in the dark 

                                                   the meerschaum pipe of life choices

the coffee is strong with this one

      - dark roast vader

the bi-ennial 

stations 

                   of the cross 

with   

 a roll on the field 

and hearts un awakened 

 time slips by and the skies are not 

 the answer 

 you have 

 the reason 

you have the senses

              you are not the you you thought 

  quotation marks 

 ampersand  

   period 

                         wells dug in the desert 

    cinnamon buns 

             thrown out the car window 

                                                   travelling at the speed of light 

(aren't we all)

are we all

 going back in time  

                                      becoming our memories

   such a beautiful time 

                                full of pain and anguish

                                       and odd recipes 

   

      

a 1973 Ford station wagon
   with faux wood siding
 parked at Sprouse-Reitz
 it's a 102 in the shade
and the asphalt is melting
  we bike to East Avenue
and to the rad lab
 there's an olympic size pool
and you can buy Butterfingers
out on Mines Rd. seasonal grape pickers
live by the creek
 you can share your lunch with a boy who only speaks Spanish
we play sandlot baseball
pitcher's hand
 edge-u-cated heel
  we ride bikes with baseball gloves on the handle
at the pit after it rains
  there are pollywogs and
later frogs come up
one year it was thousands
thousands of frogs invaded the field
it was a massacre
 junior high boys
with giant rubber bands
killing tiny frogs
  

epistolary 

deliverances

 manufactured 

in genuflection

simplified in accordance

with 

smoke 

and 

rain 

steel

and charcoal

tea

and rice balls

clemency delivered

the chamberlain

has 

been killed

He 

      who 

               longs 

 for the 

        measure;    

                                     unique 

  to his belief's survival

                          foregoes 

 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 

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

                  satsuma 

                                      clementine 

                                              mandarin

                     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 

                                        andiamo!

                                          

branches
      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
                                         

 

© 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!