During the Christmas Party

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Christmas Eve Evening

On Christmas Eve evening it is raining. I walk into the apartment, and I close the door. As if someone was watching me, the phone rings.

"Hello?"

"You need to come over an screw me." says Claire on the phone.

"Screw?" I reply, and I look out my window. Claire is standing in the window in her underwear, across the street at the Bella Arms Apartments, with its delicate scroll-work on pastel faded facade. As I look at her curves I notice a lot of other people are looking at her, in the street.

"Come over an fuck me right now." says Claire on the phone, gyrating with special emphasis in the lighted window, for everyone to see.

I hang up, and I go to the bathroom. 

In the middle of my sojourn, I hear a knocking a the door. It is three pissed off policemen.

"Would you please go see the lady across the way?"

"Why?"

"Or we'll arrest her."

It is lightly raining. I go across the way, past the transmitting news-truck and the crowd of people, into the Bella Arms. When I slam the door to Claire's apartment, she wraps her legs around me.

"I'm glad you didn't want them to arrest me." says Claire, nibbling on my earlobe.

The crowd outside roars with approval, and this reminds me everyone on the street can see us. Claire  feels nice. What the hell can you do? I close the blinds.

ING Looking fo IST

ING got up, and felt good. ING decided to go looking for IST. It was such a perfect morning, with things flecked with snow, nice and brisk. The sun was pulling him along. When ING found out at the old apartment that IST had a new boyfriend, and they had gone out of town for the holidays, ING understood. At a cafe ING wrote IST a little text message, wishing her the best and for a Happy New Year, that he was thinking of her. She wrote back right away, and it said "Thanks, what a nice surprise to see your text, and you, too."

Poem - Poem Addressed to December About How I Should Take a Nap

dedicated to Richard Brautigan


december

i should
take a


nap.



-----

Irvine
December
2012

A Short Story About Being Blue and Thinking About Richard Brautigan and How His Mailman Probably Hated Him

When I feel blue, I think about Richard Brautigan, living in Bolinas. He lived there many years, and I'm sure it seemed a long time, with the drinking he was doing. The mailman probably hated him.


----

Irvine
December
2012

A Short Story About the Sky and Hearing a Helicopter

for Richard Brautigan

I hear a helicopter, then it is gone. The sky looks like marble.


-----

Irvine
December
2012

The Hardware Store is One Year Away

The alien spoke: "We all have short lives -- I will live 50,000 years. Over in the blink of an eye. So don't cry, you live on a nice little blue planet, and everything is within easy reach. Imagine if you lived like we do, with things like the hardware store being 1 year away, and a trip to the bathroom takes a month and a half."

Poem - Lorem Ipsum Dolor

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum."

                                                      --- Anonymous


And thus I obsess
I fret
and seek out puzzles that cannot
be known

as if it were
Understandable
or to be Understood
is to Understand

We must
be willing to admit
We'll know nothing
if we have to

in a broken funny
World

Fighting the American Civil War and the Siege of Stalingrad

I realize today that for about 18 consecutive years, I have been fighting the American Civil War in my head, and also participating in the Siege of Stalingrad. This explains my reading material: all about the American Civil War, and Stalingrad. I swore that I was not up to anything, but it was suspicious -- in the recent past I'd purposely read some wildly off-topic books about medieval Japanese origami or environmentally friendly pesticide-free gardening to prove to myself I was not fighting the American Civil War and the Siege of Stalingrad. But luck is in my corner -- I found a 12 step program called Vicariously Historical Anonymous, which is a blend of AA and Al-Anon, and I'll go to my first meeting when I'm done with the Second Battle of Bull Run and the retaking of the Red October Tractor Works.

Press-Conference with the Secretary of the Inferior

The Secretary of the Inferior holds a press-conference. He mumbles under the hot lights, bobbles a stack of notes, drops them on the floor, picks them up out of order. Very uncomfortable in his cheap suit, the reporters harass him. This is the Secretary's second meeting with the press, the first one was an unmitigated disaster, quite off topic -- it rapidly became unprofessional and very personal. This time, gallantly, the Secretary of the Inferior attempts to play along. But he becomes mired in his own words, his head begins to drop, he looks down, he mumbles, ashamed.

Poem - (no title)

desparate for a smoke
i have a roaring headache
i watch john carter of mars
i hate it but watch it

quitting smoking i can't think
like evel knievel the pain
zooms up the ramp
it won't clear the jump

down down down
i smile and laugh feathers
i am bubbles i am sea foam
i surrender

Humans Are Very Bony

We run a medical-spa, we turn our customers into hot-dogs. Average healthy person makes 200 of them --  highest quality -- tastes like veal. We sell them in China. Only 200, per victim, you ask? Yeah -- humans are very bony.

Poem - the growing clout/ of dreams

the growing clout
of dreams

more sleepers
become rich

and have no
recall on how


-----

to the San Jose Mercury News
11.09.12

Poem -- the farther away you get the slower it seems

you're going away
the farther away you get the slower it seems

new things come between us
the farther away you get the slower it seems

memories fade
keen funny details blunt
every day becomes more normal
more staid

the farther away you get the slower it seems

Poem - the stopping place

the stopping place
on the side of the road
just hidden by a bend

far enough away from town

over there an old mattress
that looks like a huge
shrugged off skin

bottles and toilet paper
spent cartridges bullet holes
and condoms

--------

Inyo
1993

Poem - Dream Bike

in the middle of the night
you wake me up with a call
i was in a dream that i built a long bicycle
and everyone in the dream world
who saw it was frightening
they liked it because the bike
was metallic electric green

we talked and i fell back asleep
but the transportation was lost to me
and i know so are you

Knowing the End of the World

Today I found out the world is ending, and exactly when, and I don't care to tell anyone. I don't care to tell because I'd have to convince them, and besides who cares? If you knew the world was ending, what the hell could you do for all of us, if you really knew the world was going to end?

Poem - Acceptance

i can't seem to do the right thing
this might be what should be happening

when i try to interfere in things
that are none of my business

so i refrain from doing much of anything
not out of fear but out of acceptance

but i'll be goddamned if you ask me
for advice i'll give it

Poem - of the gigantic night

in the darkest concentrated time
of the gigantic night

one kid let out of prison
is dead before morning

in less than two hours
& he was invincible in his mind

Poem - Where the Prisoners are Released

to the jail at orange county
city of orange

at 1 am a half moon rises
in the west

punctuated by
one star

the sounds of drunken
screaming

from the TGI Friday's
across the street

bottles break girls
laugh

you can't see anything
but hear everything

in the black courtyard where
prisoners are released

*

2 am the moon is
higher

the sheriff lets them out
in groups

some with nowhere
to go

others can't
wait

they have elaborate
plans

----

9.08
The City Drive
Orange, CA

Poem - Poem of the Mexican Soap Opera

i have to get out of my mexican soap opera
i can't be the villain or the unrequited lover anymore
because i never believed in the roles anyways

i have to get out of my mexican soap opera
even when i find i am playing along to the script
my byline your byline everybody's byline is on it

but i am the producer of my mexican soap opera
i am the camera man the prop guy the makeup artist
the pimp and the whore who all need something to do

and if i don't show up for the shooting schedule i find me
if i don't know my lines i tell myself 'ad-lib' it will be ok
and everything works out as it should for such a petty drama

--------

Irvine, August
2012

Getting to Know My Neighbor's Names

I am getting to know my neighbor's names. I have never bothered to do this before, and I am enjoying it very much. They might not realize it, but each person is like a Christmas Present, or a Surprise Gift, I get to talk to every day.

Poem - so be bright and lovely

now do not forget
you are a radiant being
like a cosmic flower

take responsibilty
and do not grow thorny
or dark or odorous

you choose everything
in your own cultivation
so be bright and lovely

Poem - Building the Phantom House of Desire

i spent months and months
of effort and toil

building an elaborate
exquisite

phantom house of desire

when it rained
the rain fell on me

the roof was not real

when the wind blew
i was cold

the walls could hold nothing

and i wondered to myself
why i was miserable

even though i knew all along

the house was not real
and it could not be ever real

fashioned out of the lumber
of dreams and hopes

then the phantom house burned
and when it was torched

i burned inside my own heart

ending up with ashes and cinders
and imaginary ruin

over time the perceived ruins fade

i pray that i shall never attempt
to build another place again

because desire and want are things
in a dream of a dream of a dream

but the architect is optimistic
and is looking for a new site to build

this is why i pray and try not to forget

Poem - Writing Letters

i write letters to people who are far away
who can't leave where they are
who need hope

  i try to follow all my advice as if i were far away
  as if i can't leave where i am
  and i need hope

the sender and the receiver are not unique
how many broken hearts are in the world

and how many people suffer so
without asking for help

when i write my letters i pray the writer
and the receiver will break
this deadlock

  i try to follow all my advice as if i were far away
  as if i can't leave where i am
  and i need hope

Poem - Goodness Gracious! Me Oh My!

If I do not practice
descrimination with my senses,
then I am lost,
like having a single stray
hair on my cheek but seeing
and believing this is a log.

I know that God will love
me still if I outwit
and defeat unrestrianed
thoughts and craving --

even better it is
to see it is not me doing this,
but the impulse of an
aspiration that has no
beginning nor end:

Awake, alive in the spontaneous
unconstructed intuitive sense of it,
beyond the control
of mine and others blithe
conceptions --

Goodness gracious!
Me oh my!

Poem - to see such/ things

this night
the dusky
crescent moon

was below
and to the right

of a triangle
of stars

a wonderful
triangle of
stars!

no i did not
make this up

then my mind
rested with
you

and how grateful
i was to have
met you

even more
even if i will
never see you again

and i smiled
on how lucky
i really am

to see such
things

----

from Laguna Beach to Irvine
up the canyon
at 8.15 PM
August 20, 2012

We Review the News in 2 Seconds

We review the News in 2 seconds. Time is up. No time to review the News. See you next week!

Poem - uprooted/ all is well

uprooted
all is well
helping others

no longer begging
one mirage
for another dream

not living
in a dream
empire

not saying
one is poor
not having

-----

Everywhere
8.20.12

Only the Lonely

He reads: Ya gotta act like a winner, if you want to be a winner! That is what this helpful book tells him. An damn it, he thinks, I am winner. Winner, I am! I'm cooler than sliced bread! Stronger than John Henry! Bigger than King Kong! Taller than the Eiffel Tower! Faster than greased lightening! Meaner than that kid who beat me up in Church! More inscrutable (and mysterious), than Winston Churchill! Grander than the Grand Canyon! More mousy than a mouse!! Mouse? More a dragon than a mouse! He drinks a big swig from the whiskey bottle. Shivers. Makes him strong as the awful whole shit goes down.

Poem - beholding this new day

absolute blue of the ocean
together with the intensity of a clear sky
fill up my eyes

bad thoughts flee
old feelings cannot remain in the pleasure
in the pleasure of such beauty

even held to a requirement
or want of earthly pleasure vanishes
beholding this new day


-------

Laguna Beach
August 2012

Poem - they sail on!

they sail on
they go past the horizon
into my imagination
into their imagination
aimed at nothing
both me
and them

Poem - The Stand

i just wanted to stay a visitor
on this earth
and not get tangled up

but now though these events
i see it is better
to be gummed up with others

because if you don't split
you can stand
for something with someone

turning doubt into faith

Poem - What Must Be Done

i.

a fly in the apartment
does not have freedom

it faces a death by starvation
trapped in an ordered abyss
so like me in my organized mind

i let the fly out

in this small realization and simple kind act
may i too transcend the bewilderment of suchness

ii.

with no malicious intent
i tried keeping you

you left and are free
i will hold onto
this understanding

wonderful things keep coming
and beautiful things going away

i do not know what happens next

i stay here where i belong
now that i know better how to act
and what must be done

Wanting to Fly a Kite

He was minding his business, when he got sent a pic of a bra-shot with some cleavage on his cell-phone. And he knew who sent it to him, and he was conscious of being horrified, fascinated, tickled, and mildly baffled -- in that order. He suddenly, irresistibly, wanted to go fly a kite. With his socks off. He jumped up, dumping a stack of papers on the floor. He could care less, headed for her office, three floors up, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

Poem - Appreciation

found after so long
lost in a heartbeat

in the very coming &
going precious

every moment
was savory

Poem - We Do Not Know How Beautiful All This Is

to say it is hopeless
is to say the tree outside is hopeless
or they bright blue sky is hopeless

to say it is a joke
is to say the bird is a joke
or the cars are all jokes

all we are saying
is our opinion on things
we do not know how beautiful all this is

Poem - when i was alseep

i.

when i was asleep the
bad things were good

when i woke up the
bad things were not real

and everything that
influenced me is a blessing

ii.

from all this spouting
self-serving claptrap

in it find something
salvageable lord

let me give whatever is
left to others

---

for Chenrezig

Poem - The Letter

no reply to the letter
the one that should not have been sent

because the author asked for pity when he wanted love
and failed to have the courage to ask

you who watch and say things end see
harmless paper and ink

for the heart that knows it should stop wishing
only the bereaved know this sorrow

Poem - Try Something New

i dream we make out
i dream we eat human bone soup
i don't want to eat the soup
but they say 'it is all we have, plus you've never had it before'
'try something new!"

Poem - Another Poem to Latif

Through the trees
I saw a full moon last night

I thought of you

Like the full moon
In the branches of my mind

---


7.01.12
Irvine

Poem - buddha is the sun/ the day/ the moon/ the night

in my mind
i see
a happy buddha
alone
tramping
through night

skipping
in the shadows

dancing in
the moonlight

he is
not feeling alone
though
unaccompanied

though moving
directionless
he has
purpose

darkness
and this
sleep time
become as aware
as we are
at noon

buddha is the sun
the day
the moon
the night

Poem - no bird/ no color/ no sky

my thoughts
my person
who thinks

like a black crow
flying against
a grey predawn sky

no bird
no color
no sky

------

5.30 AM
Interstate 5, South, at Camp Pendleton
6.29.12

Poem - this beautiful day

this beautiful day
with no targets in mind
to praise or blame or explain
this happiness on

------

Raffiniert ist der Herrgott, aber boshaft ist er nicht.

  Einstein

 
irvine
6.29.12

Poem - Listening to Danny Whistle

before he goes to summer daycamp
on a perfect summer morning
i hear my son in the other room whistling
a kind of tune one makes when
you have your whole life ahead of you
and you don't mind whatever happens
because you know in your bones
it will be good

i like to hear
that kind of whistling

Poem - but never say it is like a razors edge

if i do not feel compassion for the people who hurt me
then when i give compassion to those i love
the entire blessing is half-realized

this is the inescapable path i must negotiate
but never say it is like a razors edge

Going to the Next Town

In Oak Park, Wallace had not been on a "hot date" for over 15 years. In anticipation of one, for even longer. What did he do?

He looked out the window for hours, and then watered the grass with half his face shaved. He saw he forgot the other side of his face when he was dusting a mirror, now uncrooked and lookable. Wallace almost started a letter to his brother, Hank, who liked hearing from Wallace about the weather. ...just the weather, nothing psychological. No need getting personal with your own brother, his brother said, living in Montana, gay. Wallace felt like playing with the squirrels, but they wouldn't let him get close. They only wanted nuts. Wallace ran to the store and got a bag of nuts.

When he got home, he saw he was almost out of time, and he forgot the bag of nuts on the porch, so the squirrels got fed, anyways. Shower done, suit on, down the block to the Bijou with time to spare. But as he got closer and closer, he began to have second thoughts, then third thoughts.

Wallace turned around and started home.

You're a goddamn coward, he thought to himself, as he slowly powerlessly walked the wrong way, watching the scenery go backwards as it shouldn't. He was almost home, walking stiffly and slowly, afraid people were staring at him, when a small yellow car pulled up. Lois was in it, and she rolled down the window, pretended it was the most usual thing in the world, her date being in the wrong place, even headed home.

"Hey Wallace!" Lois said. She smiled and crinkled her eyes.

"Hey Lois." said Wallace.

"I think the movie started. But we can go the next town over, to the Cineplex. They'll have it there, too."

"OK." said Wallace, and got in.

Poem - i see i must go inside/ and find the treasure there

in your absence
i see me

i see how i hate my own company
i see how i reject solitude

now for the first time
in my life i do not turn away from this

nor do i embrace it
instead i wait until it becomes clear

i understand that you
have nothing to do with this ache

this ache that drove me
into the arms of women

it existed before i knew
any women

i see that i must go inside
and find the treasure there

a gift i had all along
yet never had the courage to uncover

solitude gives me the time
to decode the identity of the thinker

and see there is no separateness
i am not alone in solitude

because i discover a presence
that is the source of all happiness

free of cause and condtions
free of demands and ultimatums

free of you
free of me

still here
just more
loving to all

and funny
to find this
in the end

without
trying

Poem - i have no/ regret

i.

i see i see
we are twins

we are versions of the
same 

all of the faults i see
are mine too

i cannot be angry with you
because i do love myself

you are a mirror
i see myself in

i do not like
some things i see

see how selfish
these testaments are

   you are a mirror
   i see myself in

   i do not like
   some things i see

ii.

i decided to love you
even if you won't be here

i decided to love you
even if i will never see you again

i decided to love you
like i want to love myself

i will always be
and you will be here in my heart

i have no
regret

Chung Tzu Does Not Look Up

"I see that wanting the Love of Another will not fix my Problems, because I have no Problems to fix. And the only Problem I would have, would be wanting a Love outside of me, to fix anything inside me." I say.

"That's good." says Chung Tzu, barely looking up. "You make very little sense, at all."

"Is that good?"

"Yes. Hopefully your brain will collapse now, and become like a deep stinking pile of shit in the sunshine, mixed with straw and dirt."

"I think it is happening right now. But shit doesn't talk, does it?"

Chung Tzu smiles, and does not look up.


-------

Quail Meadow
Irvine
6.19.12

Poem - can anyone

i  laugh
at how
horrible it is

can anyone
ORDER
someone
to love them?

idiocy
insanity
futility

i resort to
fuck the trees
fuck the sky
fuck off birds
fuck you

i laugh again
i back up

i unfuck
the sky
the birds
the trees
you

but i'm
leaving marks

i'm creating
useless patterns

i play lover
i become hater
and switch back
& forth

like a clown
like a joke

Poem - Really? You do?

i imagine all one love
then i image nothing
i can't help myself

but i always end up
in the big love camp --
who wants to believe
in nothing?

really? you do?

to me it is like
wanting to eat
cold old leftovers
that taste shitty cold

when you could
warm them up

Poem - i figure on painting my whole life brightly/ with this mind

i figure on painting my whole life brightly
with this mind

no dark corners no dullness in texture
you can do it too

whenever one needs a lift
give yourself some good thoughts

i see that there's no limit to the good
i can think up

Chung Tzu and TIE

I write this poem:

-   -  -
-  X  - 
-   -  -

"Nice poem!" yells Chung Tzu, through the window.

0  -  -
-  X  -
-   -  -

"You think so?" I reply, out the window. I can't see where he is.

0  X  -
-   X  -
-   -  -

"Yeah!" he yells.

0  X  -
-   X  -
-   0  -

"Are you joking?" I yell. I still can't see him.

0  X  -
-   X  -
X   0  -

"Yeah!" he yells.

0  X  0
-   X  -
X   0  -

"Are you telling me you're kidding?" I yell. I still can't see him. 

0  X   0
-   X  X
X   0  -

"No!" he yells.

0   X  0
0   X  X
X   0  -

"Then what are you saying?" I yell, looking for him and almost falling out the window.


0   X  0
0   X  X
X   0  X

"TIE!!!" yells Chung Tzu, and hits me in the eye with an old apple.

Poem - But This Too Shall Pass

i mourn for you
i have long conversations as if you were here
i promise myself i will not hold on

but i find myself 
in long conversations with you
promising to not hold on

i look away
i look at a bird wheeling high in the sky
i hear a truck  i burn

i am grieving me
my selfishness by vanity and i smile

i am making excuses
and lying about inventing them

i am untrue
full of self

but this too   shall pass

Poem - of this/ we will/ find/ truth

i see her
i hear her

trying hurting
looking

ask 'what to do?'
or 'how?'

in the answer
or non-answer

of this
we will

find
truth


------

For Rachel

Poem - About as Long as it Takes

she tried to hurt me
by leaving 'she's not there' on my voicemail
but i ended up
with the who's 'pinball wizard' lodged firmly
in my skull

because sometimes it feels like she stayed around
about as long as it takes
to lose a pinball game

it hurts about as long as it takes i guess


--------

6.11.12
Irvine

Poem - Wishes

i had three wishes

i wished for you to return
you were here 24 hours and left again
this time for good

i have two wishes

i want to wish the geni to hell
but he'd stay only for 24 hours
and come right back

so make the geni stay
and i play 'only the lonely'
all night long

Poem - 3:30 PM

I was joking in the past 3:30 PM was a magic time
and for that one minute per day
if you believed it
miracles would come true
all you had to do was wish a wish
on the dot of 3:30 PM

Saddleback Mountain is Very Big and Beautiful

I'm hurting in my heart, so I go visit Chung Tzu.

Lao Tzu is there, too.

"It is over." I say.

Lao Tzu smiles. I don't feel so bad.

"Well, that is what it seems to you. That's good!" says Chung Tzu, "When you feel something is over, come in, leave the door like it is, and sit down."

I sit down and look out the window. I can see Saddleback Mountain, shimmering in the heat. I don't know if the door is open or closed.

Saddleback Mountain is very big and beautiful.

------

Irvine
5.30.2012

I'll Remember a Little Bit

When we were together, I had a dream about you every night. In these dreams we talked, sitting under an arbor by a mountain, or with pyramids in the distance. Sometimes the Universe gave me suggestions on how to live the next day with you. When you left, it was so sudden -- the dreams continued, but now they are trailing off. Today I find it hard to remember what I was dreaming when you were here -- these experiences were as intricate as being with you. A part of me has gone. Several realities destroyed. I'll remember a little bit:  What the dream arbor by the mountain looked like, and how tall the pyramids were, and far away.

Poem - bad game

bad game
thinking

every phone call i get
not you

every text message i get
not you

while you
are in

every song

every tv show

every poem

Poem - A Dream Come & Gone

thinking does not fix broken thinking
an ache does not heal a broken heart

what is is what is
i take a wisp of your leftover hair

i let it go
and the wind takes it

you float gently away
a dream come & gone

---

for rachel
5.23.12

J Pants Sourpuss

"Says now: 'Snoring can increase cancer risk five-fold!'" I put the paper down.

"If thinking was a disease that killed immediately, you'd be dead." says J Pants.

*

"Lookie here: 'Americans can't wait for a perfect Afghanistan.'" I remark, during a break from the WWW.

"If you were Afghanistan, you'd be in jail." says J Pants.

*

"Just out: 'The Facebook IPO has lost all its friends.'" I mention, after reading a magazine.

"Too bad for them. You never seemed to have any." says J Pants.

*

Later, after J Pants is gone, Chung Tzu drops by.

"J Pants sure has a lot to say about things!' I tell him, as I hand him a cup of tea.

"You bet." says Chung Tzu, blowing on the cup. "He's a real sourpuss!"

Chung Tzu and I Eat Cookies and Drink Milk

I'm saving money, so I buy cheap chocolate chip cookies. Chung Tzu walks in when I open the package.

"These cookies taste like chalk!" I exclaim.

Chung Tzu looks at me.

"Mmmmmm! Delicious chalk cookies!" I exclaim."Wonderful!"

Chung Tzu motions me to give him one. He bites the cookie.

"And don't forget a glass of milk!" I say, 'Wow!'

We drink milk together in the kitchen, with the cookies.

-----

Irvine
5.11.12

Poem - what was the point

what was the point
of eye
of ear
or face

if it did not teach us
to
find
our place

to be in the moment
and satisfied

to laugh at unreal
mind

discover powerlessness
and like it

connected by letting
all go

Superior Shredding

I have two wireless phones in my apartment, both of them are sleeping in the back room. I need one of them, but as I stand, Superior Shredding rolls up in a truck. They knock on my door, I open it, and two guys proceed to shred everything I possess. It takes them no time at all. Superior Shredding wants to make a point on how effective they are in the business of shredding. When they leave, I look for a wireless phone. It has been shredded.

Poem - Everything I Do

everything i do
is like launching little boats
onto the waters of a great ocean
that no one will ever truly know of

the size of it is too big to comprehend
depth unmeasurable
the waves immense
rendering everything recognizable anonymous

but for a short time
look how my little flimsy things
wink on the waves
so delicate before they are snuffed out

J. Pants Helps Me Get Over Things/ Chuck Norris is Chuck Norris/ Haircut

"It hurts dreadfully sometimes." I confess to J. Pants.

"It hurts dreadfully sometimes." mimics J. pants "Boo-hoo."

"What would Chuck Norris do?"

"What? Kick a hole in the wall, I guess."

"Sounds like Chuck Norris."

"Chuck Norris is Chuck Norris. You, my friend, are an idiot."

"So what should I do to get over this?"

"Stop being a fucking pussy."

"Ha ha."

"I mean it. Goddamn miracle boy."


***

I go out and get a haircut. When I get back, J. Pants is still in the apartment.

"Nice haircut." says J. Pants.

"Thanks."

"You know what your fucking problem is? I know now."

"What?"

"You have too much spare time on your hands."

"Is that it?"

"Yes and no."

"I'll work on it."

"GHA HA HA HA HA!" laughs J. Pants.

Me and J. Pants - or - Y.F.R.Y.D.

J. Pants comes in and sits down. He cocks his hat back and plops his boots on the top of the table.

"I've been reading your fucking blog. Jesus H-Christ! You've been writing a lot of depressing shit!" he says.

"I'll try better." I reply.

J. Pants looks at the ceiling, pulls at his red suspenders, and purses his lips.

"I don't fucking believe you." he says.

"Why not?" I ask him, innocently.

"You sorry bastard! You like what you've been doing!"

"The lousy writing?"

"Yeah...lousy writing, lousy goddamn lifestyle -- too! It is like a drunk who gets off on being a fucking drunk AND THEN THEY WRITE DRUNK MONOLOGUES ABOUT BEING A FUCKING DRUNK!"

"I did that once." I admit.

"YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT YOU DID!" says J. Pants.

Poem - No Bottom or Top

i look for a lost beer billboard
like another looks for a lost flower
on a city skyline
the color of cement

tonight like last night
the big dipper will rise over my balcony
bigger than the entire city
with no bottom or top

Poem - At First

there is no negotiation with what is
therefore anything other than acceptance is a joke

the good news about this
is you can learn from what is

and be scrubbed clean of
stultifying yearning

at first you may be cold
but later you know you will feel warm

Too Good to Pass Up

I'm going about my business, and I read online that some condemned and notorious criminals from the 17th, and 18th centuries would get executed and have people make books out of their skin. In many cases, small books, for whatever reason. Some of these editions are on display in museums around the world. I guess they would be, somewhere. That kind of story and object of interest is too good to pass up, if you are running a museum.

Poem - A Double Whammy

financial jaws get tighter
after the breakup

when we are down to nothing
god is up to something they say

but oh me oh my a broken heart
and a broken pocketbook!

Poem - Free Time

email is stupid
so i write poems to you

i sleep all night
i get everything done

i have more time to waste
looking up useless things

i work work work work
i go to meetings

i smile like a mute
i look like an unopened book

you'll probably never read this
but if you do

a long long time
will have passed

Poem - USS Arizona

one sunny morning in hawaii w/ not much going on
a bomb fell down the smokestack of the uss arizona
and it was sunk/ nobody thought that would happen
on that day

one sunny morning in laguna beach w/ not much going on
you walked past me when i was at a cafe & you smiled
that particular way/ later when my life was blown up
i thought about the uss arizona

Poem - Silence

number no longer in service
you hang up and look at the keyboard

the silence becomes deafening
the betta fish keeps sleeping in the kitchen

feeling resigned and angry at the same time
you change the water in the fishbowl

you think it would be easier
to have two fishbowls

alone in the apartment you have done this
all without saying one word out loud

------

3.28.12

Very Nice Said the Moon

On the first day of spring, at dawn, I go outside and the first thing I see is the crescent moon just risen over the edge of the horizon. Overheard, the sky was still almost black, with a gradual lightening down by the tips of the mountains. The moon was so nestled perfect from the rising it had done, I could see it could talk.

"Hello." said the moon.

"Hello." I said back.

"Did I startle you?" asked the moon.

"Oh, bless me, no." I said.

"Are you sure?" asked the moon, going higher.

"I was surprised, but gratified." I said.

"Very nice." said the moon.

----

Spring 2012
West of Irvine

Poem - Barely Fitting

big moon skirts the big dipper
thoughts like contrails
as a sedan comes home below
the garage opens and we see
a tuscan landscape painting
barely fitting on the wall of the
single-car garage

When I Was Traveling Secretly Between Turin and Paris

Last week, when I was traveling secretly between Turin and Paris, I reminisced on how the Government reads everything we write online with little software robots -- in the name of National Security. I had 4,000 baseballs in a handbag next to me, with a miniature ladder made out of pure pressed moon-sushi. Six pairs of identical twins were on the plane, and they all ordered the same vegetarian meal. The in-flight movie was a delightful story about a white dog, a green rhinoceros, and a red penguin with mystical powers, saving post WWII Tokyo from total annihilation.

Meeting Giorgio Armani in New York

In New York, on the spur of the moment you borrow a friend's Armani coat to go to the market two blocks down. You do not particularly care for the Armani coat. The clasps & buttons are too big and the belt-buckle is ostentatious.

Halfway to the store, by pure insane chance, you meet Giorgio Armani. A private car pulls quickly to the curb -- the recognition is unavoidable, he is too close. He notices you, wearing one of his designs & holds his arm out, preventing someone from exiting the vehicle after him.

Giorgio Armani is so close you catch a whiff of cologne, and observe the fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

"Do you like my coat?" he asks you.

"Yes, I do," you lie.

Armani narrows his eyes but smiles, because he knows you are lying.

How Efficient. How Nice.

Hard-charging Martin W. passes out AT THE END of a long night of drinking, after staggering back to his Manhattan apartment. He comes to & sees the cleaners have been there as he was unconscious, organizing and straightening everything up like nothing had happened like magic elves. The cleaners even vacuumed and straightened out him, while he was passed out, and he has a fresh lemony smell. A discreet bill is pinned on his lapel, with a smiley face. How efficient. How nice.

Poem - Where We Are

it is like this thing
the moon

a cotton-ball
or a rabbit's tail

or looking inside
you or me

arms relaxed
faces upturned

not knowing
what year it is

or where we are

From My Notepad

What did you do when you attended the grand opening of the Museum of Sex?

Is there a Museum of museums?

Statement:
Sex is like shaking hands with someone with your whole body, but instead of using your hands you use a _____ and a _____.

Poem - think of me

i give you cookoo for coco-puffs

i give you stalingrad

i give you egypt

i give you lamborghini on the cote d'azur, on a starry night with a beautiful blonde who wants you& money, power, fame -- a nice italian suit of imported silk from china. exclusive reservation to a villa overlooking a black ocean

coffee

dump trucks

money

death

weeping

roller-coasters

there's nothing i can't do, and nothing that i do not know about, thoroughly acquainted with the machinery of the human soul. i ran the french revolution. i helped washington cross the delaware. london was bombed. the underdog won the kentucky derby

i made all of this out of the dust of a exploded star. because you wanted me to. because you begged me to. because you said, go ahead, it will be alright. because you said you'd love me, no matter what. and i trusted you. and i love you and you love me

think of me

think of me often and i am not far away

Poem - The Far Away Light

the fields were far away
and beyond this i saw a bright light

from an isolated house
from a grain silo
from a navigation tower
or a bar
or a secret rendezvous

from whatever it was

and you may wonder
what the place feels like there
who lingers
or how the night moves

the kind of light you pass
in the night of the imperial valley
hurrying to get to san francisco
or back to LA

and when you are miles away
you wonder what the light was
and what secrets
you will never know

Poem - My One Poem including the Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States of America

they all look competent
in black robes
and they sit still
by a red soft drape

Poem - Meditation

Meditation
the ordinary mind produces ordinary outcomes

the extraordinary perception of things
sees that even the ordinary mind
is inseparable from enlightenment

therefore ordinary and extraordinary outcomes
are like children guided by the loving parent mind

-----

A needle on a record groove does not have to have faith over whether or not it is playing, it stays in the groove, the record moves, and it resonates. The needle is designed to perfectly do what it does, all it has to be is be placed there -- everything is designed to work this way, for all things.

Irvine

Poem - all through a sober waking life

i need an electric fan so that night
i dream of a small black fan
in a dream that i know is not real

perfect! i exclaim in the dream
as if this statement makes things true
and i wake up empty handed

how often i have done just this
all through a sober waking life

Poem - I Who Have Felt

the mystery of separation
is no separation
and no-not separation
under a watercolor sky

together as always
but going to different places
probably being reunited
in the future

who knows?
who does not know?
i who have felt your eyes
your lips and body

-----

Saturday Morning
Jan 14, 2012

Poem - See

everything possible
how lovely

through the danger
and concern

over fear
and anxiety

holding on
then letting go

see!