Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Poetry Makes Me Coffee

Poetry -- who uncannily looks like a friend of mine who lives in San Jose, comes in.

"You're writing terrible poetry." says Poetry.

"Yes, I do." I say.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" asks Poetry.

"I don't know." I lie.

"Hmmm." she says. Poetry looks around the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee?"

"That would be very nice."

"Ok." says Poetry. She gets up and starts making us coffee. "You should cheer up."

"I don't feel depressed."

Poetry looks at me with her beautiful hazel eyes. "You should cheer up."

We have coffee and she tells me about how other poets were cheered up, throughout history. I'd like to make love to Poetry, when I'm in a better mood, but her phone rings musically and she has to go -- there are many writers who need her more than I. On her way out, she kisses me on the cheek.

Poem - Bar

lies as precious as rhinestone
cast over the floor of the bar
sown night gap after night
the door opens and all look
without turning your head
through red eyes
how are ya paul frank joe
don't ask

the police have come
girlfriend is banging aurora

Poem - To the Place

you go to the old place
situated in a lonely valley

not a lamb to the slaughter
nor fools gold rambling

if you go look for the drunk
who slept in the barn he is gone

he left incidentals
rotted with bird droppings

he could be in needles
he could be in a library

he could be crossing a stream
not wet at all this time

or laughing medicated
stoned high arrested shot stabbed

burned lost forgotten to all
except to your own eyes

that now see above tree branches
in the form of a mute 'X'

*

you feel an apple
in your barn jacket

you take it out and eat it

----

Bennett Valley

Poem - days a steady rain/ no hiding from it

days a steady rain
no hiding from it

sky the color
of dull aluminum

each fence post
ink black

straw nods down
sleeping on wet earth

scrub oak dark
on mountain

---

Winter Solstice
North County, San Diego

Monday, December 20, 2010

Ching Tzu Says "Ah!"

Chung Tzu comes in, through the sliding glass door all rainy. It has been raining for about 36 hours, uncommon here.

"What did you want to tell me?" he asks.

"I don't remember." I admit, drinking cold coffee.

"Ah!" he says.

"But it was something good." I remind him.

"Ah!" he says.

"You'd have liked about half of it, I think." I assure him.

"AH!" he says.

"I--"

"AH!!!" Chung Tzu yells.

"But --"

"AHHH!" Chung Tzu exclaims, and he goes out the back door, with his robes a-swinging.

Into the rain.

Poem - last night interview dream

last night interview dream
job title: running the sun

not too hot
nor too cold

raise it lower it
i had no related experience

spoke movingly
about growing green things

down here
on earth they listened

called me later

i got the job

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Poem - boring as hell you & me

now we are friended
online

what amazing possibilities
lost now found

boring as hell you & me
it turns out

Monday, December 13, 2010

Poem - like a light in this place

from the bar last call

walking home in the lions den
of 3 am sunday morning

saturday night whim
exhausted

promises decayed
failure or dark irony

then i see two lovers
just sitting holding hands

like a light in this place

-----

Lower Haight Street
San Francisco

Poem - Doings of a Serious Crow

i

serious crow

on a lamp post

haight & baker

accepting the music

of buskers

ii

serious crow

flies to the panhandle

and a pretty girl

gives him sandwich

just a pinch from

her pretty fingers

o lovely girl

iii

serious crow

to a funeral watching

out of one black eye

a white coffin

rock up the steps

of a white church

the body bumping

softly so you can't

almost hear it

iv

crow back

to lamp post

at haight & baker

buskers gone

stale food and a ticket

and a magazine

w/ cigarette butt

caw caw caw

says crow to

muscular fog

and crows black eye

sees me

Friday, December 10, 2010

Poem - Clayton Street

pearl gray morning

i walk on clayton street

i know the cars the sidewalk

i know every shining window

i am the path of the mind

now going up over rooftops

from city to mysterious sky

into unknowable air a bell tolls 12

back to earth i hear

two students talk about girls

and smell the toke

a cab cuts through residing thought

an electric bus passes

a motorcycle goes

the postman is at the gate

----

For Evan and Fonta
12/10