Fedex truck, I can still finish, for you are here in spirit.
2/27/06
… yet always,
it’s that smile of yours I long to see; the
magic one that can send away the rain
in the mightiest of storms, right catastrophes –
I’d drive
a thousand miles
just to smile back, and hold you
the only
close to me as I sigh
2.27.2006
2.24.2006
playback/pause/rewind…/… stop
2/24/06
of all, there was only harm done, no
good to speak of
unless it’s somehow
hidden behind the
impenetrable veil of
internal misunderstanding,
a part of that fucking endless
rat-race cause-and-effect cycle
that never gets finished
because it just loops back
upon itself like a product
of Mobius gone mad at the
startling sight of crisp infinity
clean as the steel point
of a knife - the sight so shocking
it could flash freeze you
in an instant
yet unexpectantly
dull, like the
front of a school bus;
because
who can wrap
their minds around
something so
bedamned?
its momentum could crush you
like a starlit sigh
2/24/06
of all, there was only harm done, no
good to speak of
unless it’s somehow
hidden behind the
impenetrable veil of
internal misunderstanding,
a part of that fucking endless
rat-race cause-and-effect cycle
that never gets finished
because it just loops back
upon itself like a product
of Mobius gone mad at the
startling sight of crisp infinity
clean as the steel point
of a knife - the sight so shocking
it could flash freeze you
in an instant
yet unexpectantly
dull, like the
front of a school bus;
because
who can wrap
their minds around
something so
bedamned?
its momentum could crush you
like a starlit sigh
2.20.2006
this poem, it failed.
2/20/06
what will I bring to the folks
of Adel and Perry?
my smile and laughter and
well of endless wit, or
shall it flow no more, with eyes the least of merry?
will the sun depart afore me and afford
the wild cats
of hell to loose, frightening and depressing
old corpses and children
both
asleep in the cold?
Or… what?
perhaps I will sleep on it.
2/20/06
what will I bring to the folks
of Adel and Perry?
my smile and laughter and
well of endless wit, or
shall it flow no more, with eyes the least of merry?
will the sun depart afore me and afford
the wild cats
of hell to loose, frightening and depressing
old corpses and children
both
asleep in the cold?
Or… what?
perhaps I will sleep on it.
scattered and replaced anew with ears frozen
2/20/06
light
the windows-casts
about the
contrast glow!
and
through the down,
charcoal-colored
of night
that I slid thrice to
winter lips
shiny ice on black
a
slippery misfortune, gray,
cold as death on
my snow-filled tonight
highlighting
an eerie
sky
as I laughed!
the unspoken slippery road
trees a-scream complement
… and the light
at general pencil-shaded is,
silent
the
straining
clawing
whisper-degrees of the now
2/20/06
light
the windows-casts
about the
contrast glow!
and
through the down,
charcoal-colored
of night
that I slid thrice to
winter lips
shiny ice on black
a
slippery misfortune, gray,
cold as death on
my snow-filled tonight
highlighting
an eerie
sky
as I laughed!
the unspoken slippery road
trees a-scream complement
… and the light
at general pencil-shaded is,
silent
the
straining
clawing
whisper-degrees of the now
2.15.2006
después de la tormenta, like the afterglow
2/15/06
the snow-filled sky casts
an eerie
light
degrees of gray about the night
contrast
glow and
whisper through the
windows
highlighting the silent trees a-scream
clawing
straining
and the light of the now
is a
complement
to the unspoken slippery road,
shiny ice on black
that I slid down thrice tonight
as I laughed!
at my general
slippery misfortune
charcoal-colored, pencil-shaded, cold as death on
winter lips
2/15/06
the snow-filled sky casts
an eerie
light
degrees of gray about the night
contrast
glow and
whisper through the
windows
highlighting the silent trees a-scream
clawing
straining
and the light of the now
is a
complement
to the unspoken slippery road,
shiny ice on black
that I slid down thrice tonight
as I laughed!
at my general
slippery misfortune
charcoal-colored, pencil-shaded, cold as death on
winter lips
2.09.2006
2.06.2006
written at the Denver International Airport, on my way to Spokane yesterday.
-------------------
for the romans, some say it was the lead pipes
2/5/06
fat lady, dressed
in red, plump
from business
too tired to walk
so
she takes the
sidewalk
slow
escalator horizontal
to
nowhere with her wheeled
luggage
close behind, handle
resting on
her ass too fat
to even pull it
so she stands
2.01.2006
somewhere in blair, and who even cares?
2/1/06
as you make your way from
an honest day’s toil, sweat upon your brow
like a flood in the now
you might suddenly find, in a moment of time
that you’re queued
for milk and honey like
the most ancient of wine
as your pantry bares home to dust
of the apples you’ll pick the ripest,
the grapes the fullest and plump,
of the collards you’ll choose
the greenest and firm
and the berries, the darkest and lush
but beneath the greatest things
are those dusty and cheap
kept away beneath the sheath
just the jilted fruits rotting in the dark
barely
discovered
and secretly bruised
2/1/06
as you make your way from
an honest day’s toil, sweat upon your brow
like a flood in the now
you might suddenly find, in a moment of time
that you’re queued
for milk and honey like
the most ancient of wine
as your pantry bares home to dust
of the apples you’ll pick the ripest,
the grapes the fullest and plump,
of the collards you’ll choose
the greenest and firm
and the berries, the darkest and lush
but beneath the greatest things
are those dusty and cheap
kept away beneath the sheath
just the jilted fruits rotting in the dark
barely
discovered
and secretly bruised