Sunday, November 18, 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."

Thursday, November 15, 2012

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

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

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

Friday, November 09, 2012

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

Friday, November 02, 2012

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