Author Archives

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At least there will be no babies, then there was.
At least there will be no episodes, then there was.
At least there will be no heart attacks, and then there was.
At least there will be no ripple effects, and then there was.
At least there will be no conversations.
At least there will be no love, or no love lost.
Yes, no love will be lost and none to find in heaven’s first place,
seat at heaven’s gate,
dessert on trays and
inaccessible.

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What is it? We don’t have it, something we don’t have.

The mystery the mercury the moistery the mastery. The wiggle room,

the where we ought to be. The shame of oughts the sin of noughts,

of nougats piled high and sickly sweet.

What are you, sweet or sweat? The giggle room, the pickle room,

the ambidextrous grace. Kids cannot find you,

longing longing for the kindness of your mercury.

Kids cannot find you, quicksilver. Not find nor chase you.

Not aligned.

And he is not aligned. Just at cross purposes,

and cross as well. Overarching cross and crass and

cress, the water crescents of belief. The ripple room.

Semantics, syntax. The sticky aftermath of wine,

here I am, table, table, table, table, baby.

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I can imagine river living, living by the river,

the Willamette where it winds through Creswell,

life between the buttes when there was so much

more to uncertainty than there is now.

Calling calling Colorado Gail, calling on my

dead ones, death, calling on the red ones,

milk red spots or stains, the blueberry of

buildings, the gray of grass, it dominates.

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Don’t be Stupid.
Don’t be Stupid, Seeker.
Let me entreat Color.
Let me not regret
admiring your forms
Sam naked in the shower
valuable worthwhile
treasure treasure treasure
Karen fat and Karen thin

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Do you want me to come over there? He’s panting. He’s panting fabulous. She’s tan. She’s handicapped. She’s tand and handicapped. She’s Pat. She’s married. She’s forgotten. She is at risk for sexually transmitted diseases. She’s tarnished. She’s wilted. Wasted, warped. He’s warped, he’s disabled, he’s dyslexic. He’s young.

She talks so fast my head spins. Dizziness disease.

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I can resurrect the feel of fright – tightness, hollowness in the chest, circulation stops to the extremities. Pounding. Swimming Head.

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This is more than less.
This is a venti no water Americano.
This is a lemonade.
This is without respect.
This is a poetry of abuse.
The abuse poem. The nirvana poem. The well poem, the ill poem.
This is a leap out of poetry the false well.
This is a heartstring.
This is a spoonrocket (K. Prevallet)
This is a landfish (Sam).
This is incapacity.
This is the rest of the beggars.
This is the consistent.
This is the technical.
This is your sip, these are your glasses,
this is your mirror, this is your window.
This is your sudden face,
this is rabid dog fear in the night,
this is jumping flea ukulele.
This is Mr. Killbug, this is a Burgher. This is a Beggar.
This is air, this is male pattern baldness,
this is a reduction, this is avoiding getting organized.
This is not a gnat, this is not a note.
This is the scent of your sweat and a sharp pain behind the eyes,
this is code, this is a tangerine, this is over but not over,
this is ooh and aah
this is lipsynch, this is lip stuck

this is father daughter day
and after all that okay

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june 30, 2007

Calendar check 6:30.
Time check 1:30.
Skin check: itchy.
Wrist check: stiff.
Mind check: jittery.
Stomach check: jittery.
Throat check: thirsty.
Mouth check: worried about someone else’s leukemia.
Soul check: distant.
Pulse check: alive.
Poetry check: parallel universe.
Sky check: blue delightful.
Bird check: twittering and cheeping.
Smell check: corpse flowers.
Sound check: birds, flies buzzing, metallic clink, a flagpole, distant pounding, distant humming.
Air check: slightly breezy, warm.
Clink, clink clink.
Cars passing. Thump.
Cedrus Libani, Cedar of Lebanon.
Stone cairns.
Cedar needles.
Adirondack chairs.
Conversations hanging in the air.
Buzzing plane. Gardens.
Labor hanging in the air, remnants of sweat.
Dry tongue. Clink, clink.
Air belly, squirrel throat.
Darkness behind the eyes.
Mouth film.

Uneasy belly. Toast and jelly.
Uneasy eyes, ants and flies.
Uneasy legs, beans and eggs.
Uneasy hands, toast and jam.

Ordered poetry for the millennium. I am not a MicMac, not a Passamaquoddy, not a Pequot. Hanging conversations. I have made up my mind. Corpse flower, cedar needles. Aboriginal gardens. Poisons. Fatalities. Eco echoes.

Afternoon check: summer.

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ping point paing
ha ha
bird, don’t think I won’t fuck you up*
pushing past flowers
pushing up daisies
premature form
projects – projective – projectivist
is it the breath or the typewriter
out in the open field
asshole email
I’m doing it again – indenting lines off the left margin for no reason – oh yeah, because they are new paragraphs
high-pitched hello

*Overheard in New York

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This is me relaxing
this is me not liking what I’m writing
this is me still looking for the answer
this is me with a vestigial sense of boredom
this is me with mountains petals mountains petals mountains
this is something like a bag of petals paper catching petals
this is vision you are bequeathed a vision and you grasp it whether it is sandwich bags or earth house hold
this is your gift your vision
this is how we do it
how and how and how

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this one wants to write through everything
this one wants pigtails
this one wants to be the age I am
this one wants disabilities and aches and pains
this one believes in happiness
the floral happiness
the petalled extras
the extravagance
the vagaries
the vacuum vengeance
the cosmic curiosities
the wretched
there are unawakened
there are emotional storms

Ralph’s sadness and his brave front
how do you like your brave front now

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in Al-Anon I hear a lot of hatred, greed, delusion

for me it was a help to label that

for me it was a help to lose belief in “me” as a stable concept

there goes self acceptance, ego, ambition

getting better, doing more, perfectionism, anything like that—