August 2, 2014
The water reminds me

When I feel small,
when I feel big,

the water reminds me.

When I feel threatened,
when I feel safe,

the water reminds me.

When I am worried,
when I am at peace,

the water reminds me,

we are an ocean orb
dewdrop in a sea of stars.

The water reminds me,

I must open my eyes to see.

* * *

Written August 2014.

July 27, 2014
I was having such a nice dream this morning

I was skipping through deserted hometown streets,
the terrain more hilly, the bricks more red than I remembered.
There was a steeply inclined, wooded space between parking lots
and chain link fences, loaded with meaning and memories,
all deja vu from previous dreams. Sunburned by nightfall,
I walked for a long while, chilly without a jacket,
to an impossibly narrow Victorian two-storey.
It was lonely, but a pleasant kind of lonely,
filled with the anticipation of getting high
at a party where I didn’t know anybody.

On the balcony, thinking I was totally alone,
I closed my eyes and levitated a few inches off the ground -
it’s so easy to do in my dreams that I take it for granted now -
and when I opened them, there was a woman staring at me.
"You’re that lady from the news," I said.
But before she could reply,
"Your secret’s safe with me,"
I woke up with heavy legs.

I was having such a nice dream this morning.

* * *

Written July 2014.

11:53pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zi-g2w1MhPDWu
  
Filed under: poem poetry dream dreams 
July 25, 2014
Billy the Kid was shot in the dark

This is a stickup,
reach for the limit. Dress rehearse
      your famous last words.
A lossless larceny launch malingerer
outerspace asshole.
      Racist laser mind-control robotic
      radio wavelength.
Cliff-hanging season tranquilizer art
fire-when-ready writer.
      No wrong answers this film is unrated.
      Casting call for Kubricks. Cut.
Billy the Kid was shot in the dark;
open-and-shut thief in the night.
Roll credits, cue music,
and turn up the lights.

* * *

Written July 2014.

July 24, 2014
How do I break it

How do I break it to my kids?
That Santa Claus isn’t real,
   but the threat of extinction is?

How do I break it to them
that monsters don’t hide under the bed,
   they hold public office?

I want them to have
the same opportunies that I had;
to be anything they want to be;
for everything to be all right.

How do I break it to my kids
   softly, so they can sleep at night?

* * *

Written July 2014.

2:04pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zi-g2w1MNlfgZ
  
Filed under: poem poetry monsters children 
July 22, 2014
I miss America tonight

I miss America tonight.

Pizza was invented there you know -
pizza as we know it anyway. Hamburgers too,
no matter what they say in Hamburg.
America practically owns the patent
     to inventing things.

More to the point, I miss Americans,
and their business-casual English,
their eloquent economy with words.
I miss thanking them and hearing
          “Yep”, or “Sure”,
and most of all apologizing and hearing
          “You’re fine”,
especially from a woman
     with a Southern accent.

          “Don’t even worry about it.”

I miss Americans tonight,
and working at the call centre.
Sad to say, most of my coworkers
did not share my enthusiasm
for America and its freedoms,
but I was happy to call them
     brothers and sisters.

I miss America tonight.
I wish New Orleans all the best.
I wish New York a good night’s rest.
I hope Detroit will be all right.
I hope L.A. sleeps sound tonight.
May God bless the Midwest, and
may no one ever mess with Texas.

I miss America tonight.

     (I’m sure Detroit will be all right.)

* * *

Written July 2014.

July 19, 2014
Paul Bunyan’s angry ghost

Trust-encrusted Cheez-Whiz Christ
on a stick, how many licks does it take?
It keeps on tickin’, like yo mama fellatin’
Osama bomb-laden beyond the grave. Jersey City.
Like it was doctor recommended for llamas.
That’s a true story - you can look it up, although
   this is Marlboro Country, so
   the Michelin Man burned down our local library
   to appease Paul Bunyan’s angry ghost.

* * *

Written July 2014.

July 19, 2014
Relish the occasion

You may lose hope -
and that’s all right. Sometimes,
you may find it’s truly hopeless.
    But don’t lose wonder.
Curiosity may kill, but will allow you
to face the truth
when hope is a lie.
    For if you must die,
    relish the occasion.

* * *

Written July 2014.

July 17, 2014
Trickle down

You took me to an era
   that was all beginnings without end,
   and asked me why I never finish what I start.
You took me to a hinterland of hearts,
   where the rapids froze because the blue
   would not run. But we ran out of red.
This land was your land,
   of rainbows unexplained, for it was my land too,
   and I don’t remember rain.

* * *

Written July 2014.

11:08am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zi-g2w1LkSpCR
  
Filed under: poem poetry 
July 11, 2014

The Axis of Awesome - 4 Chords

July 10, 2014
Soylent lawsuit

   Fill’er up.
Drain it to the last drop.
Lock-out. Stop. Watch out -
wishy washy flip flop.
Turn on, tune in, and cop out
   co-opted lobotomy.
Keep calm, the bombing commences
in the next sentence, where sitting
is forbidden on fences. Soylent lawsuit
bodybag first offences. The lessons
are clear - we have nothing left to fear
   but the threat
of waking up on wrong side of regret.

* * *

Written July 2014.

10:25pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zi-g2w1L89rnQ
  
Filed under: poem poetry fear regret 
July 6, 2014

Langston Hughes - “The Weary Blues” on CBUT, 1958

July 4, 2014

Ryan’s Fancy - The Ryan’s and the Pittman’s (We’ll Rant And We’ll Roar)

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