in a beach town they buy the modest house

in a beach town they buy the modest house
months go by, no one lives there
there’s always a pause before something happens
when october is unusually hot
they take all the landscaping
shoveled onto the mouth of a dumpster
all of the interior walls too
everything that could be annihilated
just leftover outside walls and a roof like a rind
those gentle trees and palms plumeria
it’s a hard reset i suppose
life is like that with a twist of ego
decisions plans clearing all away
sweeping every little breathing flower into a heap of trash
the house is now prepared to become
a restrained style, as dignified as a tomb
but you live there
stone surfaces and blonde floors
a cunning kitchen
all smartly modern and done
but at night they might feel strange
because the yard and the house will 

gnaw on each other for lack of comfort

whatever we do is felt and seen
sometimes a kind of anger and vagueness lingers
the owners cannot completely shake off

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Poem for Father

 The mixed feeling go on and on
It isn’t his fault 
Sometimes he was loving 
Other times not 
Many times he was helpful
Sometimes he wasn’t 
He was friendly and frightening 
Insightful and condemning 
Happy deceitful 
Cunning as well as ignorant 
All things I have
Inherited from him 
As well as this body
Mind this face 
Looking like him
More and more everyday 
I’ll go everywhere 
He couldn’t go 
Be a version 
That loved a lot more 
Then dedicate it 
To him 

===

they say it is 'local's summer now'

they say it is 'local's summer now' 

good until after october 

on monday morning 9 am there's 4 people

including me i walk from end to end of the bay 

there's some flower heads and orange peels 

the ocean devours all of it while leaf blowers

discreetly manicure the terraces 

one of them has a traffic jam of greek statues

all of then facing towards whatever house 

is behind the blowing sunshades and pediments

but even money and a splashy pad cannot 

keep the ocean at bay as it inches up and up 

ready to wash every bangle and brass sundial

seized engulfed

with the love of water until they dissolve

until you can't tell the water from the substance

and dark in the abyss that awaits

electric blue and inviting on the doorstep

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intensive mediation 5 week retreat

intensive mediation 5 week retreat

i could see out the window of the place we sat

over boundless hills blowing in the wind

two horses stood next to one another in bliss for hours 

while a black bull sat in the grass not far off

also in a peasant trance while some of us 

struggled to let the iron will go and abide for 

even 20 minutes 

let me tell you about what i think between sessions

entertaining stories with a twinkle in my eye

i can relate going to japan greece or mars

investing and uber drivers and doordash fables too

how wide is the world and 

ha ha ha  ha   ha 

it is even harder to meditate than to die

(some say dying is easy)

-----

.

on hot summer days without a stain in the sky

on hot summer days without a stain in the sky

they pull people out of the ocean regularly 

dead, sometimes alive 

see how the sand moves remaking the bay

tourists arriving hunting for the best spot  

at dusk beach towels/ toys are left behind

i walked through a spider's web down 

on the way to the cove

the spider didn't cry 

---

this series of explanations like old oven mitts

i had an amazing dream last night
that was a whole poem  

it was bright it was rare

it soared you'd say gee whiz

and now waking i can't

even get it to fit into this jail

this tube

this box

this rummage sale

this series of explanations like old oven mitts 

-----

i had five or ten poems

i had five or ten poems

pass me in the last week or so

most seemed to be pretty good

but i didn't write them down 

now i see them in the distance

they pretend they don't know me 

o poet

this isn't like fishing and saying

what big ones got away 

put a pen in hand and grab

the first thing you can write on

-------

birthday

july 11 i'm grateful

because i know i should be 

my sister asks me what was

my all time favorite birthday gift

i say it probably was

a 1976 yellow stingray bike

with sissy bars and a 

glittery speckled banana seat 

but thinking about it more

i'm most grateful for being born

so thanks mom 

------

beyond

everything on the outside
appears a demented but looking closer
i see it makes sense 

then looking closer by backing away

i am demented and back further

we are standing on a summit

all around us is the brightest sky

a total culmination arrived at by nature

beyond grace and faith 

look at me like a stump of a smashed candle/ or a lopsided tomb or a fool

look at me like a stump of a smashed candle
or a lopsided tomb or a fool

see me like the grapes in the valley

or a treetop touched by the sun or a flying bird

i wanted to give you a pocket of moonlight

sounds of water rubbing on pebbles

i'll listen to you but i won't judge 

follow you but not imitate your grace 

-----

honestly i have something more to say/ and it may be the truth

honestly i have something more to say

and it may be the truth 

but no honesty in me to say it 

my excuse is the long drive the fields

the history of feeling lost in words

or hiding in the plainest considerations

how many of us have stayed 

in this futile place as if in a place preferred

saying one is marooned yet one is not 

never stop seeking honestly

 what you can 

and wish to be even more clear

you will forget all your petty ideas and chores

stumbling blocks are like crumbs

like specks when we become 

bright inside like mountains 

write me something/ random and clever

write me something

random and clever

but never tell me

the truth 

be honest as the day

sure like sunlight

so when it rains

i'll smile 

be like my tears

or a book i loaned 

and never got back 

but all is well

i dream about the mechanics of dreams

i dream about the mechanics of dreams

i work on their stacks and piping 

i rummage in their bunkers and storehouses

walking for miles down corridors

going through caves 

 

i assign the ballast of bliss and of nightmares

i dream of all their illusive operations

i am assigned to work between the scenes 

i see where they illogically join

weld the broken seams 

in a phantom train yard

switching dreams like freight cars

run endlessly steady over the horizon 

i dwell on the timetable

read dream maps 

study dream histories 

i had something to say / i took a vacation from self

i had something to say 
but i left it alone 

and when i did this

everything smoothed out

became calm and easy

i took a vacation from self 

i don't know when i'll be back

plus when i left for my trip

i took everyone along for free

they get to do whatever they want

and this is a nice day

and this is a nice day

sky a robin's egg blue 

puffs of air ruffling your hair

each minute a peppermint

every hour like a flower 

-----