2013 poem — where taketh me?

Lightning, sculpted for my

pen speech.  Breaking into mind

house.  Charged even before I

enter.  Mind patrol.  Away roll.

Sail over to numbered sights.  Map

lies.  I’ll find it, I’m not worried.

itemize  everything  no beat  lost

cant sing     no more blogz

nothing not paper

only what i can touch  4ever

see    me   picasso

hopefully   the quiet bothering me–

So I reconstruct.  Progress on wine’s oddity tree.

confer with another toll, roll for soul’s tee.



Woke early, feeling nervy. Circular
Rationale, mental roller derby-
Driving 12 east, resell peace, for
1 minute at least. Then I park,
See three sparks. Look for a new
Lark, outside an enclosed break room–
Sabbatical, take soon. More revenue,
Another boon. Uncertainty over me
Looms. Uncomfortable, critical states.
Moving slow, result of subliminal wear.
Difference.. Apple and pear. Annoyed
With despair. Clarify my penning eye,
With more red wine. Unsure if I’m what
You’d discern as fine.. So I readjust the clock,
So it eventually locks. Immobile, inactive,
Stationary, with traded rarities. Language
Chemist, banished descendants. My
Stream thought, tangential.. Answers to
Their criticisms, oh, I’ve planned several.
Wild writer, I am ferrel. Take my Cab straight
From the barrel. Till I can’t perceive or
Paragraphs retrieve.. I write this still in teeth
Grind, waiting for takeout, no trees climbed.
Is there a potion to see dollars from dimes?
Mechanical pessimist, I stumble with
Tested bliss. Amphibiously scrupulous,
Take to two miss. But I’m still a followed
Diarist. Now with wired lips. Sick in this
Tired tryst. Distance myself from devices;
I’m on the left where the right is. De-vice
My routine so my sense is clean. Cold,
But only when ordered or told. Wings expand
So I eventually see rings in sand. Symbolic,
Systolic.. Jackson Pollock.


Extended Talk, Stressless

Constriction, no thin
Relent. Mind, cages. Circles.
Disrupting minutes–
Breathe, relax.. What everyone
advises. It’s that easy.

I see parking lots,
But I make them oceans. Stand,
But I situate
by sand. Nothing around me,
but reefs, waves, persistent mist.

Painting what I want–no, NEED–
To see. Record moment to redraw
Later. Tasting different characters,
Hoping to be guided to quiet.


Cutting Board

“…Santa Rosa to Senegal, plan to roll
A resplendent hall; one more month
Called. Only one stall, total attitude
Recall– involved in arrow throws, how
Else do they expect my now to respond?
They don’t know which bracket I’m on.
Rich republicans, investing against my
Steps. I switch, me shuddered in,
Regretting again my bets…”


“…like outside, gorgeously torturous
In Fahrenheit, putting freeze wherever
it’s pleased. What I speak in their booth
Might soothe loud ended chills. Correct
Self when balancing checkbook.
Don’t need another kite…”


Typed 1000-plus words b4
Year’s shutting. But I’m 2 lazy to edit.
Just my new candor. Blame me, please.
I need the reassurance. These hosts,
So scripted. Do they have identity, know
What it is? Where are real Artists
Recognized? Only in galleries? What
About pen movers? Not expecting anything
For a new year when I have new expectations
That’ll take at least a year to climb.
New modernity, modality in my talon’s
speed. Race to park, sinned, before my heart
is darted, dreams thwarted. Parted from
Putrid puzzles that only want my sonnets muzzled.

12/31/12, 11:41pm …