Sunday, October 11, 2009


just wait til i
can find my shoes
i'll go home
then down
to the river
at least where
you can
push us
in hold
our head
under water
with all
its voices
in cold
silence streaming
past consciousness
or then
we could
balloons right
off the street
if we were
years younger
we might know
better what to do

hold our own
head under water
they come
we will
still one
that put
us in this box
we chose to stay
with ruined faces
maybe we oughta talk
one of these days


You have to be pretty fast to get anything to eat in my house, unless you're a cat

He also loves split pea soup, hummus, peas, corn, all meats and animal products, tortillas, dog food (wet and kibble), ice cream, yogurt, peanut butter, honey, gingersnaps, ramen soup, thai and vietnamese food, granola, cheerios, squash, potatoes, fresh peas ...

Wednesday, October 7, 2009


a long dark think
from nowhere to home
lights gone racing cross the skies
when i was them
i was a little dumber
now it's more and some complicated
hidden away in sueded leather
crossing the skies
my skies and yours
firing up to elaborate
words yet spoiling
from that lopsided mouth
dabbed in pink
the better to make you think
it is something other
than is

are hanging out
as the squid slides through
the day before once
everything worked
all that you were
to be

and finally the bag men
arrive from italy
it may be a different day
yet still it is
the same old story
and tomorrow it will be the same
going on and on
disagreeing over some detail
that no one will remember
later tonight
even if a death ensues
especially yours

but we are not in prague anymore
and so we must do just the best we can
with your friend franz
twenty one hours to go
and still to be done
the work of a lifetime
only so much as time can bear
will be borne
harnessed in
shoes too small
and all the rest

i understand nothing


Sunday, October 4, 2009

dump-ed one

that genesis is to genius
black as to clay
gangrene to hand,
hell, to brains and life and intellect, morals and all of it
everything that makes you better than me
yet there it is,
for no reason,
wholly without
the little dog stands
with his tail docked short

nails long clacking along the wood scarred floor
he's a chesty little bastard
bowleggedly tough
his stance
like any other banty rooster with
razors on his skinny scaly legs

makes it all seem kinds normal, don't it

out the window we can see

it is twenty hours to go
but we know we can't finish
nor diminish
creating so many problems
so fast
the patterns swirling
clothes muddled in a heap
molding soggy on the floor
this flood will never leave
you may as well paint the first coat
rather than dress for some explicit therapy

now at ten in the snow is eleven hours to go
there is no word here to assure any of us
the bhodavistas have gone to the country
blocks to be burned
gloves to be filled
the proper way to play with scissors
is neatly at your desk
better to cut your own gangrenous sin
than the neighbor boy
that's what grandma always said
sides, mess with him and the nuns are gonna get you
their metal-edged rulers cut deeper
sharper than any scissors I ever had

they know the sins that swallow us whole
but if they're so special and holy and blessed
how in the world could they ever know
the flesh-devouring, life rotting gangrene of my soul?
any excuse to beat a defiant liar
god helps those who save themselves
and the nuns to help us

but not this one
this one it is not finished
before we get dressed
is one and a half hours
no matter what
one must avoid all dramas

now the floor is empty
butt scars blacken the long leaf pine
the day before in the rain
we never made
here they are on the rack
in the midst
of backwards prestige
the sage rolled his eyes
and lit another
looking at the mess
just another to cut and remove
dead branches nightmares gangrenous hands
take em all out
in the twenty three minutes left
those skinny waifs, their big doe eyes
shut closed, tight with duct tape sealed
just one last time
as even the beautiful

all i wanted was just your blessing
if not
then to the beach
with no more fear of silence
and only seven more to drown

what do they do with em once they chop em off
i wonder?


Saturday, October 3, 2009

whatnot, not what

I keep thinking ...
I need to write
and I do write, but not write here
and does it matter?
Only if
because I said I was going to
for whatever reason
might jump out at me

tomorrow then

nothing can be started
less someone,

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houston, tx, United States

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