Saturday, December 26, 2009

Poem - all creation would know it

the book might be by the bed
you may read it from time to time
or it may have been discarded
it may be forgotten or simply shelved

i have no idea where my work goes
and what kinds of life it lives
i wish i could see one small part
of the stories sprung from my stories
alas i can't ever know

i wonder if this is how god feels
because after seeing a large part of the world
it is obvious to me god cannot see
everything that is happening
all things taking shape after
he started it all in motion

god must not be able to see everywhere
at all times like a santa clause
otherwise from my point of view
god would certainly cry & if god cried
all creation would know it

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Poem - st. francis pray for us

st. francis pray for us
we are all sinners i think to you
you're the only one to understand

we went to detroit hung out
with strippers talked at the bar
until the night was worn out

about philosophy and
faith god and
read them our poetry

they were amazed and asked
where we came from and we told
but they still wondered

i saw a statue of you
in white marble in a church
in chicago a day ago

you were hidden in an alcove
up a few sets of stairs
by the main doors

Poem - to conclusion and a kind of absolution

to Gary Timmons

with about an hour
before i meet with my attorneys
i go to st. peter's church
on west madison street

after more than 15 years
i sit in on a mass & watch
the ceremony and remember back
on all those sundays in the past
always going to church
and saying prayers but really waiting
to get out & play the whole day

now i have all my responsibilities
being a reluctant grown up
so i'm not praying with the idea soon
the service will be done
like i always did before
i don't want it to end when it does

as the service lasts i look
in the varied crowd of worshippers
i see the pretty lady secretaries and attorneys
a few quite close to me and i wonder
how seeming now
pious meek and devout so still
what would it be like to meet someone
who goes to mass on their lunch break
just before christmas

there is no judgment here but
these girls are as amazing and exotic to me
as if they came from another world
when the eucharist is consecrated
and the people go up i quietly leave

i confess i wanted to be this devout
not taken up by pretty things
i tried to be this way when i was younger
but it wouldn't last

the break the separation
it does not mean i do not love god
it does not confirm i have lack of faith

all my faith was like a guide
unto a whole wide world
conducting me out of braced morality
into the embrace of the almighty
beyond temporary earthy beings

some saints and believers understand
what i am talking about and i still
as the magic of the mass glides
to conclusion and a kind of absolution

Friday, December 18, 2009

My Personal "Coat of Arms"

dedicated to Evan

I have decided on what my personal "Coat of Arms" will be. This realization was unasked for, invested upon me spontaneously by the Fecundity of the Universe. Wow, thanks Universe!

On a shield, above, there is a starry sky. This signifies the endless possibilities available to all of us, if we want them. Combined with this and below it, is a lovely leafy tree, with a giant red cardinal bird in the center of the tree. The tree signifies both the Universal Tree of Wisdom that Gods hung from, and also signifying the Tree of Knowledge, or Death -- neither can be avoided. The cardinal bird is there because I like cardinal birds.

At the foot of the tree a blond virgin reclines -- with the Sun at her head, and the Moon at her feet. She cradles a skull in her lap. I'll tell you what the blond signifies and the Sun and Moon if yer too stupid to figure it out. Fairly steamy, productive, fun, hard work, etc.

There are a few sheets of paper, for writing, painting, and drawing by her side. Nearby, a few baubles and books as well, for the enjoyment of publishing and the gaining of knowledge.

Below this, my private motto -- EGO operor non exaggerate. Is est insolitus , quoniam is est verus. -- or -- "I do not lie. It is strange, because it is true."

Finally below all, the touch of an endless sea, just peeping with white froth. Because the adventure starts, and potentially never end, until the Sailor following the "Fixed Star" in the Heavens is satisfied & ready to be at Home.

George Washington, Revealed

Now, most people don't know George Washington, "The Father of Our Country", started out as a young time traveler -- frankly a bit of a scamp with loose ethics -- who thought it would be a Gas to set himself up for awhile in the late 1700s AD in Colonial America, Virginia. Should have been a cakewalk. But unfortunately, when George Washington got out of the machine, he put his goddamn knee straight through part of the mechanism that precisely aimed spatial telemetry on the front-end of the gravity surge, rendering his transport bust. Some would say "Pinner" to this. The breakage could have been avoided for about 5.22 USD, by G.W. installing a basic cage around the parts in question, but he was hasty and didn't think he needed something like that. For 5.22 USD, circa 1985. Oh, well.

Being stuck indefinitely like a freeking monkey in the zoo, and also being taller and obviously better bred & fed than all the weedy drunk insane podunks around him, it was unavoidable that he became entangled in the politics of the day. And due to his concealed superior knowledge of Modern Military Tactics, he found that he could deal with the British using the slender resources that would be provided by the stupid Continental Congress. But the Revolutionary War was a giant pain in the ass, and he was glad when the British gave up. Lafayette was nice at first, but later turned out to be a poncing pontificating Frenchman who never seemed to have mud or shit on him & never would shut up regarding opinions on things -- anything.

After some years had gone by, G.W. had to wrangle through being President all the goddamn time -- while George lost all his teeth. He did have a perfectly good set of modern dentures he manufactured, but preferred to not wear them out of "discomfort" of them being Wood. Not wearing dentures allowed him to become a formidable grumbler and mumbler, so he didn't have to figure out what to say to the ninnies and nincompoops that surrounded him with their ceaseless cajoling and need for sage advice when George Washington couldn't give a shit. Yes, being thought as a Great Hero and a Great Man certainly became quite tiring, especially if you had not been able to listen to the radio or 4D HHDD television for several decades.

Basically, it took George Washington, originally from Phoenix Arizona, circa 2022, about 30 years via the new United States of America to manufacture enough rarefied metals and minerals to fix the damage to his glazed reflecting/ recuperating hive-chambered multi-dimensional gun so he could get the Hell Outta There. I hear that he is recuperating in 2099 or 3122 AD, quite happily at Club Med Mars III.

If you bump into him, tell him I said "Hi". I don't know if he knows he ended up on the one dollar bill. Portrayed without his dentures. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to know how bad he looks.

Sunday, December 13, 2009


There is Radar. I've been told about Gaydar. Daniel, 3 years old, has Toydar. When June thought Danny was distracted she tried hiding a Christmas Gift at the bottom of a box, with several things on top of it, hidden in a closet -- it took the kid about 10 minutes to find the toy. June has no idea how he could have found it out. Daniel has also found another possible Christmas Gift after June hid it behind the toybox in the living room, when Daniel was out of the room. It took Danny 5 minutes to find that one. And Dan's Toydar is just getting better and better, the more things are hidden from him. I'm imagining Danny Boy one day with x-rays shooing out of his eyes, effortlessly seeing though walls and packages -- on that day, to hide something from him, we'll have to shield it with lead. Viva la Toydar!

Poem - The Melt

at 32 degrees
it feels warm

no snow falling today
nor freezing cold

the whole world around me
changes as things melt

endless drip dripping
as ice disappears

showing black earth
peeping beneath it

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Poem - and all the things you've seen

realize, still it is possible
for every dog has his day

and all the things you've seen
amazing! terrifying! ridiculous!

Friday, December 11, 2009

Poem - like a school of fish if you could imagine/ what that would be like

for Richard Brautigan

i remember you talking angrily to yourself
(or to people somewhere else)
in other rooms of the house
then after awhile all rooms of the house
were filled with your words
then after a time words literally
pushed me out the back door of the kitchen

following me in dark empty streets
to a car or bar or hotel room your words
endlessly repeating themselves here there
occasionally i could forget but mostly
the words worked around the room

like a school of fish if you could imagine
what that would be like with angry words

Poem - is it a car carrying/ a lost suitcase?

i have a boot heel
that squeaks like
a mouse

i waited between
4 PM and 8 PM for
lost luggage

the beer in the fridge
it was deceptive
it was empty

i can hear children
playing downstairs
to xmas music

here comes a car
going down the road

is it a car carrying
a lost suitcase?

Poem - tell me you love me

tell me you love me
even if it isn't true

tell me you love me
even if you're not certain

say it even if you
don't mean it

give this sucker for love
one more smile

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Poem - that big holding me to it

she leaves her scent behind
like the pyramids of egypt
illogically i think but
that big holding me to it

Poem - they were invented for/ love

i think back about
how you are so beautiful
and you trust me

despite the fact
we met &
it ended with goodbye

we have jets and trains
bus and cars i think now
they were invented for


December 10, 2009

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Poem - holding the book in/ my hands

old poets read
then the young kids get up
they read
i sit & watch
holding the book in
my hands

Poem - food or water or whatever is irreplaceable

he gets that light racy feeling
in his heart he might feel faint
when he looks at her/ but doesn't tell
how he feels
almost like a child who doesn't want to go
he wants to see her face every day
even if he just walks by and says "hello"

when they talked he tried not to stare
when they walked he managed to walk carefully
the time is passing/ their meeting
is ending
he is mindful of this and tries not to be mindful
their meeting is ending like running out of
food or water or whatever is irreplaceable

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Stairless Stair Misses Someone & Finds the Haunted Staircase

Getting ready for the reading. Now one person is keenly missed, who won't be there, but that is okay. And it is good, because Stairless Stair found a haunted staircase at the office he works at. Miners with bags of gold, whiskey, and guns clomped up it a hundred and twenty years ago. The haunted staircase was there all along, found by accident, still echoing the past.

Monday, December 07, 2009

I Still Love San Francisco, Stairless Stair

After a month of anticipation, I arrive in San Francisco, to see old freinds. And I also notice how fucking filthy the city is. Shit, glass, trash, smashed up furniture and things all over the place. There's a disassembled toaster oven scattered on the corner of Dubois and Church, my freinds say it has been there for about 6 months. I walk around. Wherever I go, in any neighborhood, I meet about 1 - 30 bums. All the bums I meet are crazy. "Oh where oh where! Is it here, or is it there? Have ya been to the STAIRLESS STAIR?" asks one of them. I have been there. I think I am the stairless stair. It starts to rain horizontally. But I still love San Francisco.

Thursday, December 03, 2009


(The reprise in italics, to J.P. Donleavy)


Like me, you didn't have much to do. You were sick of staying in a small, silent apartment on a Sunday afternoon. So like me, you got yourself together and started off down South Oak Park Avenue to go do something, like harmless window shopping, or visit the bookstore where I saw you again after the time I walked by you on Lake Street, pretending that I didn't notice you.

In the used bookstore, I was surprised to see you. As before, I secretly admired your poise and your smooth brown hair, how your hair spread out over the shoulders of your white jean jacket. I said nothing to you, because I didn't want you to think I saw you first on South Oak Park Avenue and followed you up Lake Street. I didn't want to appear to be completely ridiculous.

But here you are again. I can tell you are lonely, and like me, you read just about anything, and I suspect you have no close friends. It could be you are going through some tough changes -- getting divorced, like me. But what can be said? Nothing can be said, regrettably. I try to forget about you.

Later, outside the bookstore, I see you one block up with your back to me, coming out of the GAP. You've not bought anything. I comprehend I'm in a crazy groove of certainty, tuned with the universe: I know if I wanted to catch up with you, the next place I'd be sure to find you is in the fresh bread section of Whole Foods. I don't bother to go there because this would be weird; you'd know for sure I was following you:

We may be far away from Victorian times and conventions
But still, even today, meeting a strange man in the street
Without a proper introduction
Is no way to meet a man
For the first time, alone, amen


I go off to a bar & grill nearby for a hamburger; it is a nice place where I am sure you wouldn't visit this afternoon. As the pretty blonde waitress take my order, I see you will not be coming in here. I wonder if you ended up buying anything at Whole Foods, or when you dropped by the GAP for a second time.

Later, I clearly see you walk home along the same route you took from your apartment -- I can see you walking with the same poise and your fine brown hair spreading nicely over the shoulders of your white jean jacket, slowly, with no hurry at all in the world!

Poem - snowflakes do you make noise

falling snowflakes do you make noise
i wonder & stand close looking to the
dried grass


Dec 3
Oak Park