Thomas C. and Steve J. accredited (even if inappropriately) for significant inventions of life-altering magnitude

poetry

my lack of need for pen and paper to compose
has removed the problem i’ve had with
the roundness of my legs.
no flat surface is now—
no problem.
more and more writing can be done
whilst otherwise occupied upon porcelain.

certainly technology has more to be praised than this. but right now, there is little for which i am more thankful

padded walls

poetry

cradling man-sized ladybugs
and climbing lived-in trees
this is the education we give our children
then we wonder at why they leaveith not the house at 18
“in childhood things were softer,” they say innocently enough, “foam enforced, carpeted, with padded walls.”
the real world they fought over patterned flowers on their mall floors and argued over who could jump to the next butterfly
they cradled themselves in tunnels of plastic, sterile, blue, climbing stairs and exiting slides
we taught life would be easy ups and slippery downs
we taught life lessons when we thought we were encouraging play time
taught padded walls as we cemented the forest
introduced easy-together legos in our rusting, over-heating, perishable, use-by-thursday world
and yet we wonder
we ponder
scratching our heads
eating smooth peanut butter on wonderbread and drinking pulp-free juice from disposable cups

lessons i hoped you would consider over a glass of wine, or perhaps a bottle. often lowered inhibitions is exactly what the psychiatrist ordered

poetry

a leap for life
for some is a literal
bullet dodged, or a grenade avoided

but for you a leap for life
is a mere plane flight.
a ticket purchased
such that life blood can stop being
clotted at the source

and with new oxygen flowing to the brain
hope arrives and strikes you
startling you like the bullet would
had it made an impact on the other
for whom that life-giving leap was not metaphorical
and struck by hope, you’re taken aback
and furious that you stalled — knowing the steps required for forward momentum, for life, and not taking them.

new life, a change, bought cheap, rearranged;
sometimes one leap’s too short for “in”, but never-wager folks don’t win

fog rolled in today

poetry

the muffling of sound
the sun hidden behind the white engulfing the trees
and the constant reminder of our
forced submission to nature
our true blindness
able to overcome polio, leprosy, even tuberculosis
but unable to see down the street
past the corner with the 10 car pile-up soon to be 11
because of the way the sun is hidden behind the white engulfing the trees
and the fully muffled….
the silence.

Rewrite. Celine you should be proud.

poetry

Near,
And in addition to near also far,
Really, wherever you might be at all,
It is compatible with my belief system that the heart doth persevere,
And then one more time,
You unlock and then open the door,
And you will find yourself here inside of this dwelling place I call my heart (please do not intervene with the blood flow, it is surprisingly essential to my ability to live)
And my heart will persevere and then persevere some more.

Whew.

thoughts in my last few weeks, vomited like a bird feeding its young for your consumption pleasure

poetry

third graders gather on the floor and ask about toilets and school uniforms in a land they cannot fathom and who am i to introduce them to it? i’ve brought pictures to say the things my words cannot, and speaking of eating dog, rabbit head, or pig lung, may inspire exactly the wrong kind of awe, i fear, but do my best as they gaze in bleary wonder knowing all this time one or two may be moved to drop their lives and leave a world where a child must have 100 crayons if they’re to be expected to color, where three simply would not do. sewage runs through streets in images i’ve taken of places where the scent overwhems any bad feeling one might have from the way things look, and it’s been five of my six months and all i can think of the whole time i’m showing these pictures is how much i miss home, and the “grind” and being on the winning team. to know the work i’m a part of ultimately wins when i feel like away, i’m more of a bump on a log than an addition to society, and snow is not near as romantic as i remember it, and consumerism literally makes me want to vomit in these cities where people are virtually strangling their children, choosing to suck the life out of them so they can have a swimming pool in their back yard, and while i’m not foolish enough to believe this is the case everywhere in this great country, i nonetheless catch a glimpse of the vastness of the nationwide epidemic as i get reports from the “bud light sports desk” during the “coors light half time show” where you spend the whole day in awe that infinite jest had this thing figured out years ago and it seems like only a few years ago i read that book (part of that book) and

laughed at the absurdity of the extremity of it all