Tuesday, May 29, 2012

tag

what heals the damage
done to language ain’t
the question—leave
your poem on a bus
& get off
to talk at all, or
to crib our students,
i got options
i’m sick
throw up an estate
it’s real
it won’t cheat on
you or anyone, still
you worry you won’t get
the loan, take it personally. well,
the women i got over
i lived with, says a friend,
says to start over
       to destroy desire
you have to fight over
daily physical space for
a time, house of mind
only a limb from that—the mouth,
telling you off. speechless,
but w/ pride in the shame,
shared, each of you splits
into strips, a fiction rusting off
the end of a branch
nice to meet you. my decrepit
father attacks me in a dream
foaming at the mouth. this
is real—signs held up repeat
it: this is real, this is real as
on city hall’s first day of
school: wake up, wake up
from the cars you are—cars
are people, their attitudes
curl the spine, turn the eyes’
corners flat over the nerves.
optimus prime is not your
friend—go ahead & cross
the fucking street
it's not on the test
it’s yours—
if they ask you for credit
give them a branch
when they want you to get it
chew on some grass
         i know
         i know
city hall is the brain
of a shark, it fits
in a jar: real estate—
you could smash it
against a wall
or bury it
as a teacher
as a teacher, i say you’re all
teachers & are afraid to learn
we look at tusks
in a cabinet
for digging up roots
buffalo come back
on the nickels
like a told-you-so
i thought their bones
were from giant people
in a blue book. in a blue book,
be a native speaker for
once, have a face
& a body of nickels
your path to a bachelor’s
degree starts here
says an asshole
on a train about
to explode
the neighborhood is turning
the corner
says an asshole
made of drywall
in a casino of pennies
at the feet of the poets—
it’s years to do another life
calmer than newsweek
in a blue book. in a blue book,
say why this train you catch
is years to hum
piano up to door
this train you catch
its ears
for 700 pages
of fairy tales
all one horse
700 pages
all one horse
    one steed
of shakespeare water
teacher says please
stand up
like a state
please discuss inner
refreshment
please discuss baby
corn tonsils
for 700 pages
in a blue book
calmer than newsweek
it’s multiple choice:
who are bill & melinda
gates
who are the rolling
stones
of wall street
who are you to fill out
their bubbles
what smalltimer keeps
spraypainting RAT
in all the crosswalks
along 10th street
from cvs six blocks
to my corner—twice
at fernon RAT
spraypainted over
in black
by a vigilant neighbor
to no avail—RAT is re-applied
good as new
RAT
each block
RAT
the sure refrain
as you walk to cvs
RAT
& back
for toothpaste or toilet paper
less & less able
RAT
to distinguish between
RAT
the images in mind
of whoever RAT might refer to
RAT
& the author of RAT
& yourself:
                RAT
                RAT
                RAT
                RAT

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Saturday, May 5, 2012

momentum


* * *

momentum is something

* * *

i have sometimes

* * *

overrated

* * *

i just saw a payday
commercial
for the first time
in my life

* * *

all peanuts and caramel

* * *

underrated

* * *

candybar

* * *

that was in a bar
down the street
full of asterisks
i might report

* * *

the payoff
is time off
no fooling

* * *

it was a new place
called watkins
on 10th st
in south philly

* * *

i’ll give you that

* * *

i had dinner by myself
a burger
it was fantastic

* * *

not true—actually
it wasn’t that
good

* * *

i said nothing to no one
save the bartender
a nice quiet girl
we exchanged words
of business
and polite thanks

* * *

i watched a tv show called
30 Rock on mute
read the closed caption
laughed quietly to myself
a couple of times

* * *

tina fey
&
alec baldwin!

* * *

stars

* * *

happy hour 5-7
half off all pints
including brooklyn
black chocolate
stout

* * *

not bad!

* * *

also at one point
dude next to me
got up, said “now
you’ve got more
elbow room”

* * *

elbow room!

* * *

2.50 not bad
for all that
year 2012
philly usa

* * *

on a planet


* * *

on a planet?


* * *

on a planet


* * *

rule is say anything
it’s a poem
if your neighbor
feels it

* * *

do i have neighbors
sometimes
i wonder

* * *

what w/ all this
elbow
room

* * *

back now typing
in my apartment
btwn the asterisks
of sleep and work

* * *

who do i neighbor

* * *

i’ve seen neighbors
in other countries
not like here

* * *

we’re standoffish
and think highly
and often of real
estate, which is
killing us all

* * *

i’m in no hurry
to die

* * *

you?

* * *

hard to believe
we’re still here

* * *

given, say, what all
went down btwn us
last century
and the continued
proliferation of
nuclear weapons


* * *

not to mention global
warming and the rapid
depletion of natural
resources such as
water

* * *

really if you’re still
reading this
i’ve got to wonder

* * *

but can you defend
anything you do
really
in terms of time
which you know probably
very little
probably actually nothing
about?

* * *

we have all the time
in the world

* * *

and you are lazy
which
i love
in secret

while you work
at nothing
really

* * *

under my calm
a minutemen
song from the 1980s
pops to mind:

“paranoid chant”

* * *

the song begins

i try to work and i keep thinking of world war 3
i try to talk to girls and i keep thinking of world war 3


* * *

cold war
punk rock

* * *

the singer d. boon
died in a car accident
while the band was
on tour

* * *

mike watt, the bass player
shows up on my facebook
page sometimes under
“people you may know”

* * *

should i send him a “friend request”?

* * *

“you like to ruminate”
a teacher told me once
suggesting that i take
too long to respond
too long to articulate
my thinking

* * *

i ruminate

i chew the cud
like a cow
and watch you
stare into the mouth
for a neighbor

while i imagine myself
transforming into
my father

* * *

comes a time
to shit out
the burger

* * *

who are my friends if
not neighbors

* * *

i miss ted berrigan
whom i’ve never met
nor will on this planet

* * *

and i don’t believe in
planets
after life here

* * *

too bad for you
i imagine my mother
saying to me

* * *

let’s try to move on
from religion
shall we

* * *

this is for you

* * *

it doesn’t matter
what fucking century
it is

* * *

friend

* * *

honesty is hard work
it lets you down

* * *

i’m still not sure
what i’m trying
to prove

* * *

sometimes writing
isn’t the way

* * *

sometimes sex all day
isn’t the way

* * *

sometimes getting drunk
all week isn’t the way

* * *

sometimes drinking coffee
all day isn’t the way

* * *

the poet anne boyer
posts on facebook
“we need communes”

* * *

8 people like this

* * *

i guess i like it too

* * *

she’s in kansas

* * *

i think i’d rather be
alone in a room
w/ anne boyer’s poems
than in a commune
w/ a bunch of poets
or radical leftists

* * *

right now suddenly
i feel love
for everything
and could cry
if i knew i didn’t
have to keep
writing

* * *

i know you can’t
feel that right now
anyway

* * *

it’s the land

* * *

it’s the land
we are out of touch
with

* * *

with

* * *

if there's no land
there's no history
and time is money
not motion thru
space

* * *

john cage’s “lecture on nothing”
just
popped to mind

* * *

its rhythm
its pacing

* * *

you should read it
if you haven’t
aloud some time
to some one
you care very deeply
about

* * *

or aloud to an empty
room

* * *

you’ll be glad
you did

* * *

that’s about all
the advice
i have to offer
today

* * *

you are a ball of
romance, go on

* * *

take the skinheads bowling
take them bowling

* * *

from here on out
larry anderson
is calling balls
and strikes

* * *

you must be fucking blind
he says
during the commercial

* * *

it is time
for a pitching
change

* * *

the umpire watches
me calm down

* * *

it’s okay, larry, have
another drink
don’t forget
your sense of
humor

* * *

it’s only a game

* * *

you’re winning
on the radio
between pitches

* * *

don’t worry

i’m not saying
that life is baseball
or whatever

even though it is

* * *

strike one

* * *

strike two

* * *

strike three

* * *

i’m going for a walk