What Was Different

It was mid-morning

and I had been awake for hours.

I wasn't writing,

wasn't doing much of anything

except sitting down

and consuming information

idly in my chair.

This is a comfortable

stagnant routine. I weighed

myself and didn't like

the result. I had been doing

modestly by my standards

but had managed to blow

small gains in just a few days.

Bad habits dig into you so slowly

that you cannot feel

the nails piercing your skin

and entering flesh.

I grabbed the half-empty

pint of whiskey

and poured it into the sink.

A brown swirl flooded

the basin and disappeared

into the pipes. It's scent

wafted upwards. I ran the water

and poured some into

the empty bottle to rinse it out.

I did this for a bottle of soda

that was also unfinished

from last night. I've never

done this before. I had to.

No coercion, no violent accident.

Just a choice, a small one

to be repeated.

I am the enemy,

I am the hero.

Don't let weakness

stake a claim

in you.

Universal Self-Portrait

I am the sum

of vibrations

that have 

conspired

to create me.

Silent Ways

I.

We sat in silence and stared 
out the windshield.

She turned her head and looked 
at me for a moment.

I kept looking straight ahead.


II.

"You mind if I put some music on?"
I said I didn't. She reached 

for the floor and the beat-up
cd cases sitting there.

The floor was such a mess.


III.

She picked my favorite album
by Miles Davis. On the cover

his face gazes a sight we 
cannot see. 

Droning organ, us, closer.

Meeting Mary

Her name was Mary.

She did not know me

but I waited for her,

hoping for an audience.

She saw me and said,

"Don't worry, I see you.

I'll be with you in a moment."

Her smile was just so.

It felt good to be noticed.

I waited while she finished

speaking to my friend.

The two of us didn't come

together, but she was

the one that introduced me

to her writing.

Mary walked over and

we spoke. I asked her

"Which of your books

should I get first?"

She recommended

her 'Selected Poems'.

"If you wait a few months

it will be in paperback and

much more affordable."

I would end up buying

it in hardcover, despite

her advice. I thought

about how she sounded

when she read that evening.

Witty, sincere, and in control.

Her cadence, half-spell,

half-revelation. I still can't

believe she gave me her time.

I, the young man, new

to her work. Imagine God

speaking to Homo Erectus.

Let's Grow Old

You look like someone's 

very beautiful aunt.

As it turns out,

you are.

Reasons

You are looking for a reason

to stay sober.


You are looking for a reason

to drink.


There are plenty of reasons

for each at any given time.

Wolf & Honey

Hey Wolf,

where you going?

Just looking for you.


Hey Wolf,

what do you see?

Just you, Honey.


Hey Wolf,

what are you looking to do?

Anything with you.


It's getting late and I'm 
looking for a good time.

It's getting late and we're 
looking good.

It's getting late, and this
round is on me.

Honey, you look so good
wearing that pink you do.


Hey Wolf,
where are we going?

To the moonlit fields,
we'll howl together.

Wot's the deal?

What happened to forever?

What happened to 'til death do us part'?


My plastic ears cannot hear.

My bifocal eyes cannot focus.


Attention is hard to give or get.

Focus? On what? Why?


I hope I'm not missing out.

What happened on the telly?


The plug is pulled from the outlet.

The screen is black.


Blank. Like what?

Black. Like what?s

Content From A Shoebox

you collect images the way some people collect

trading cards. they'll come in handy you say.

you're no writer or collage artist, you gather

them all the same.

a picture of a cat staring listlessly into the camera,

a woman sobbing,

the President speaking to congress,

the beach at dawn,

the cluttered desk of a stranger,

a picture full of pyrite,

the crowd at an anti-war rally,

your mother and father when they were young,

downtown LA in the 1930's,

a beautiful women wearing only her smile,

the field of Gettysburg after the battle,

Paris during World War II,

a portrait of your favorite writer,

you the first time you met your grandparents,

a forest of redwood trees,

someone you once loved,

bears catching salmon from the river,

the Andrea Doria on its side, ready to disappear,

a satellite image of North America at night,

the hands of two elderly people clasped together,

a princess awaiting her prince.

What is the next step?

Must there be one?

4 bits

I.
I'm not here

I'm just waiting for you.


II.
half-remembered memories

and ideas too foolish

to ever make sense.


III.
Dandelion Diamond


IV.
I'm trying to be as quiet as can be
It's early still
and stillness
is the rule at this hour
you're  sleeping in bed
I don't wish to wake you
today will be busy
you said as much last night
your arms pull
the sheets closer
curled up like a ball
my side of the bed
full of emptiness

Please Edit

I am not afraid to cut

where it is needed.

Speak in clipped lines,

it'll make you mysterious.

My thoughts are incomplete

at the worst of times

and needlessly sprawling

at the best of times.

My attention wavers

depending on how

interested I may

or may not be in you.

My vices know me

all too well. They know

when to find me,

what to say. Together

we do nothing

but consume a most

precious commodity.

Every waking is a testament

to our diminishing days,

to the hopes we have

yet to fill, the loves we have

yet to live. Take in the lives

of others, page by page,

word by word. There is truth

in experience. Journey alone

if you must, grow resolve,

move in all directions

when possible.

Where Falcons Roost

Her name is Claudia and we met

at the bar down the street.

She's German and has been living

here since she was twenty-one.

She knows enough Spanish to get by.

The music and conversations blared.

We leaned in to hear one another,

she squeeze my hand and said

I like you,

no, really

I do. 

She's forty-three.

I said, I hope I see you soon.

She tugged at my beard.

"Nothing was happening. 


Everything was happening. 


Life was a stone, 


grinding and sharpening." 


- Raymond Carver, 


'The Autopsy Room'

You is no substitute for I

What Is Missed

a waking amnesia,

sunlight brings

focus once more.


perspectives shift,

align, as needed.


everything rearranged.


the drive to work,

a new flower bed.


speeding by, new

blossoms don't worry

if you don't notice.

Decades of dust

ancient sediment

define the strata

_______


He lost his tongue

cannot speak
writes everything down

He never learned to sign.

Knight With No Horse

Confirm suspicions

Slink away

Surrender to truth

A graceful loser

Loveless

Loved less

Empty days

without end

make no plan

plot no love

live no lie

absorb truth

A Natural Beauty

You are

so beautiful

you never need

to do anything

but smile.

Store Bought

I'm wearing my new

store bought soul.

It fits fairly well.

Possible/People/Sounds

The Sounds Impossible People Make

or

The Sounds of Impossible People


or

The Possible Sounds of Impossible People

Rising Arc (freewrite)

substitute reason with intrigue

redraw the map to reflect no reality

automatic thoughts

typed at the speed of fingers

exercise the mind

preserve the body

balance the weights on the scale

justice, her scales in imbalance

keep this going

keep thoughts moving

the difference between

potential and kinetic energy

a matter of use

a matter of motion

heat warmth

sweat pouring

from your forehead

simple as saying nothing

to no one

keep this true

lie to no one

but yourself

a state of constant

thought

you run through fields

you have never seen

you kiss lips

that never loved you

imagine it all

rewrite the world

into the image

that you crave

no one can stop

the world they wish

to create

limit yourself

by fear and anxiety

forward motion

is restless

is ready

wheels turning

the smell of burnt rubber

wafts to your nose

the car guns it

so what about

struggle

what about insecurity

lies

FOMA

all of it

accept no false Karass

you will never know

all the answers

they are not yours

to know

do not mourn this

knowledge

lives in closed systems

until the gap is breached

do you understand

do you understand

we are living

according to no plan

Spelling The Alphabet

I spell the alphabet

one letter at a time.


Brightly colored

magnetic plastic


pieces colour

the bone white


fridge. Words

appear letter by


letter. Thoughts

left on display-


rearranged easily

and often.

Continual Change

Every waking

is a rebirth 

if we wish

it to be.

Waking Sounds

You leave the natal warmth of bed

and put on a sweater to deal with the cold.

A familiar voice echoes through thoughts-

you decide you must hear it.


Her voices seeps slowly from the speakers,

a pre-emptive balm for the day.Wordlessly,

a melody rises higher and higher

until you are ready to begin.

I don't want to wait to see your face.

I don't need perfection, 

I need honesty.

Age is a disease everyone accepts.

Tell Yourself

As far as I know

I exist.


What a grand

realization.


I assume you

exist as well,


otherwise, who

is this?

Mechanical Connection

Drive a car long enough and the vibrations

of the engine, the smoothness of its hum

become all you need to understand it,

to know it in health, and in sickness.

Listen and feel its vibrations, they are 

everything you need to understand.

Life always works

to broader your horizons. 

When you were near

I wasn't there

nor anywhere.

The Intrinsic Self

You've been beautiful

since before you were

born.

An Unkind

There is no reason for this,

it just as easily could not be.

That is not the case.

We find ourselves

or we don't.

We find meaning

or drown in oblivions

of our own making.

Don't be honest,

don't be truthful,

don't return favors

and you will reap

an ill harvest.

Everything Breaking Down

She was waving her arms frantically and yelling

by the crumbling bus station in downtown.


The cars in front of me began to roll up their

windows as they approached.


She didn't look particularly destitute,

as I turned the corner her gaze caught me,


an unsettling intensity, a manic energy

that was freed and had nowhere to go


but out in every direction possible.

Her voice was muffled by the windows.


I drove past her and past my destination.

I needed to be far, far from there.

Visitor

It finds itself next to you

and you do nothing but berate it,

tell it to be quiet. 


It doesn't even know why

it bothers to come round

and say hello.


If you keep it up

It might even stop coming

by altogether.


Nothing would be worse

than silence

consuming everything. 

I see your face

I know your taste

Left Behind

You never stopped living 

for the one who 

stopped loving you.

Economics

Sell my outrage

back to me

at twice 

the cost.

Enough Rest

Fall asleep at a reasonable hour,
you're not getting any younger,
the decades are beginning to pile up.

It's not so bad now, yet. You wake
up, clear headed, life is in progress.
There are times when the Sun feels

like a stranger smiling at you as you
walk down the street, so you smile
awkwardly, maybe say hello.

There is no one in the house but you.
It's as silent as you want it to be.
There are dogs barking somewhere,

you can't ignore them as they echo
through suburban canyons. Your body
does not ache or thirst. No pain throbs

through your head, you are ready. For
what? For when? There is only one
person with an answer.

Time to start using my heart
for what it was made for.

Lick Your Wounds And Love Again

Asphalt Heart

blackened


trod upon


hardened



torn up road


grating it


readying new asphalt

Life rewards those who pick

the fruit of the tree.

Nesting Dolls

He woke up

and thought to himself

'I am'.

All life,

all experience

stems from this fact.

Without this condition

nothing else

is possible.

He wondered

'What should I do

today?'

He gazed through

the window

and saw a spider

spinning a web

between the arms

of a tree.

He stood up,

put on his shoes,

walked into

the yard.