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!