Drowning in fresh squeezed confusion
with the intensity of a crippled heart,

Dancing to paranoid surrender,
choking on much useless talk,

The vicious kilter of
love gone awry,

The world all gristle and ghosts,
dirges lamenting the nothingness
of it all,

The nostalgia tattoo throbs
in memories of the imagined promises
that could never have been.

How It Is

 How is it when the tree withers and the leaves fall?
Body exposed in the golden wind.
    -Blue Cliff Record

I certainly know how to get naked
and swing from a chandelier.
Unexpected moments driven
by music and emotions
of beauty.

Awkward interactions,
abrupt transitions,
bizarre, hilarious, enthralling
confounding and cathartic.

Lots of costume changes
radically reconfigured, sutured,
and amplified,
they contain and manipulate
so many influences
from vaudeville comedy
to hip hop.

Snippets of hard-edged music,
astonishing powerful,
and unpredictability wild,
and out there, 
and free.

Seems to represent 
an existential struggle against
habitual prejudice and inequality,
patriarchal capitalistic heteronormativity,
or something else.


I need something simpler.

Those Indelible Atmospheres

Those indelible atmospheres:

crawling naked onto clean sheets
with a brand new lover;

floating unencumbered, not touching bottom,
above the salty waves
before they crash;

sitting in a dark bar,
the smell of beer soaked wood
and the sound of pinball exclamations,
awaiting the what-will-be-better;

the desert at night,
the back seat of your dad’s car
parked in the woods,
that first kiss,
first toke,
first time behind the wheel,
hitting one over the fence,
an unexpected embrace,
or hearing
you did good.

And others,
that are yours.

Feathers and Fancy

 Dreamless and lost
in a mind of feathers and fancy;

without ceiling,
nonsense drenched with
the unhinged conviction of
solidified knowing.

No, no;
it’s heedless 
yoyo disintegration
of runaway spirits
scattered in the ceaseless tock
of arhythmic time.

Electrical metaphors,
but oh so pretty;
previously seen  in the spastic dance
of St Vitus gone a rye,

in a 3:00 AM

Tro Tro Entextualization

People Will Know But Who Will Tell Them?
Life Is War.
A Short Man Is Not A Boy.
I No Be Like You.
Envy Never Lights A Fire.
Gold Never Rusts.
Still, It Makes Me Laugh.
And Jesus Wept.
No One Is Perfect.

Observers Are Worried, Why?
Belly Never Know Vacation.
Sea Never Dry.
Love Is Good.
Love Like Death.
Cool And Collected, Lover Boy.
Are You Looking At Your Mama?
It Is Not Easy.

Women Hate Poverty Because Of Money.
Shopping Is Believing.
If You Don’t Look Well, You Will Not See Well.
Paddle Your Own Canoe.
You Too Can Try.
But Why?

Don’t Blame Jesus.
If God is Your Co-Pilot, Switch Seats

*Found –  Peaks Island, Maine