Tomorrow I go fishing with my in-laws
which wasn’t in the marriage by-laws
but may not be so bad,
because at least there’ll be:
pipe tobacco
and
beer.

The thunder woke me up this morning,
rolling, shaking, stirring,
the kind of thunder that reverberates
through the body, through the soul.
Not Garth Brooks’ thunder either!
No, this was T.S. Eliot’s thunder,
thunder that speaks the words of God,
that speaks of salvation.

The thunder is passed now,
and the feeling grown faint;
the sun is out, birds are singing,
the world seems joyful;
the world except for I,
who hopes to hear the thunder
again, to hear God again.

books of joy
books of mystery and fear
books which make your heart leap
there are books for crying
and books for murdering
and even books for bombs
some books can answer all the questions of life
and some books are just plain stupid
people get published with bland
plain
painful
sorry
terrible
writing
(and some publish themselves)

but i think, one book.
maybe 90 pages
on the merit of jello
in the workplace
would be worth
1000 words.

Outside the bar club, the violent youth wait
for sneakers and boots to find their target
between a kid’s ribcage.
Someone should have told the kid
getting smashed to pieces
not to live like a mollusk with the skeleton on the outside.
This is not a place for the weak,
the muscle is holly, the muscle is king,
and the fragile, the hero die young.

Mostly taking sun

In some huge, heaping gulps

In between cave-time.

lack of sleep hit the fan
things that fade
then re-awake
and keep you from that glorious state
of

who am i
where am i
why on earth did you decide to wake me?

Wind flinging water

Sideways and arm-like branches

Wave goodbye to Spring.

I cleaned out my office today,
Putting all my paraphernalia away;
Taking everything off my wall,
Including the poster in the hall.

And as I regarded my state property stapler,
All I wanted was to steal it;
But I resisted the urge as shit,
Choosing to keep my soul in-tact.

While I do love my family,
After a long weekend of togetherness,
I love it more when they go away,
Even if it is on Mother’s Day.

Before I die I hope to write words,
brilliant words, simple words
that move, elate, contort , extort heart,body and soul.
Cerebral, skin deep words, magical words,
ship-like carrying on into this metropolis, country, galaxy
like a new breath binding the soul to the crisp page.
blue effervescent words eliciting a bit of mirth and reverie.
trenchant, hip words, biting, slick words for the world to bleed or lick.
Then only then will I be able to justify my long existence
while he, she, sublime creature lived one minute and passed away the next.

i chase same sun

            to work

            to home

i gaze certain stars

            at peace

            at leisure

i absorb pain, i imagine pride

                        overlook worthwhile fits

 

the donut fulfills
every hidden desire
of le roger mugs

the circle represents the relationship
will last forever
one continuous piece of dough
the purity of which
shares
the couple’s pure love
respect
care
for one another

do you roger
take this donut
to fulfill your every desire?

and do you donut
take this roger
in sickness and in health?
in the morning and in the evening?
after cereal and after fajitas?

what chocolate could
never begin to compare
old fashioned plain glazed

conformity is what i do
to people who annoy me
always will be shunned at the expense
of a few extra hundred dollars
would buy exactly what i need
is a new attitude to slap people
dancing sporadically through
the few small years of my youth
passion was baseball which now
i can hardly begin to comprehend
rocket science you must read books

whew.
outta hold you over.

sharing my mom’s car

with

lugged voices

            (too many)

and

simple plans

            (waist-high)

i’d gaze through the fences:

backyards throw crumbs between each post

no matter how much you love your family
in-laws will always remain
in-laws

and beer will always soften
the blow

modernized men may haul their lives

            to escape self-importedly

                        his mediated conversations

                        the unconnected one over there that is his cog

                        the things that perfume for him

                        the sublime vantage of states of the arts

            (but records his popular shows)

talking in words,

looking in words,

thinking in words.

alone, eventually they’ll shut up:

one’s self feels

…and does

Today,
done with the finals!
In a year time
bye bye the bum
farewell freeloading habits
One more upstanding citizen will grace the world
and do as the world wants
pay taxes, recycle, watch TV, buy stuff,
embrace the existence/ inexistence of a god,
sit on piles of credit cards,
listen to the radio and die a slow death
with thoughts of youth wasted in ampheatres
for a paper degree that not even fruff the dog cares about
even though nursed and fed by the paper.