Best not be so sure nor positive
On the turning point,
Unless talk show representatives
Have affidavits to fill out
To protect them when they project
Yr. image and Yr. more imaginative story
From coast to coast, but don’t worry,
Viewers love viewing

When things turn around.
You can fudge the exact time
It all went down.



December 31, 2017

picasso is said to have said

“Art  is the lie that tells the truth”.

seems  if he did, seems valid.


(Though  some tries  along these lines

can only shine as sly & slippery lies)


His muy good joke/

& lucky for our sake/

Actually/  the accidental awaits

us/  Fog & smoke machines make

bonfire smoke signals rise up

until unreasonably  sound  Beauty clears/

Us holding the pen? we’re  without a net nor warm blanket.






Sure, sweating stallions are dynamic

& may have beauty

but some  Clomp! the blossoms

god & me made.

clods  now

Cognizant Nugget

October 23, 2017

I heard in the crosswords

Cain killed the Keeper of the Sheep

“Learn something  every day”

For most of it though  don’t go and lose sleep


September 8, 2017



Peter Sellers (9/8/1925-7/24/1980)



I heard a ways back/that the actor Peter Sellers/stormed off a set/(a clunker cliche’/”stormed” as a verb)/That Sellers acted up, disturbed/by all that was wrong when a man in the crew/

wore green and purple.

Sellers balked at doing the scene and walked off/quite mad./Purple and green./An omen of death,I guess/not for you/

Edgy artist/Peter felt put out enough about it/the stuperstition thing/to blurt it/stand by it/insistassuming others to buy it.

Stuperstitious/I’m edgy/it just doesn’t hurt./Tonight I wear my purple tee shirt/The one I sport under my sportjacket For and at my favorite Art concerts/ My sisters…/

my snug Mr Greenjeans, and Airwalks are on/I ride on a stride so fucking strong/

soundsynch on my full ON! phone/

juju mon/ Rajiohead/ Could carry me dead on.



(from 2009)


June 29, 2017




She won’t roll away & not watch me.

Y’see, I won’t  seem to take,

When I dream (or I wake).

to take  another breath  before

The scene fades, before

lights go up

then down  to more of a zoom.

She waits in our bedroom for me to resume.


We went to go to a yoga class.

Where a barefooted, hairpleated group leader;

beautiful, and calmer than a

merciful last coma,

She insisted that our deep breath is

the gist of all of it  (within, & out).

We rearrange the short & tall of it.

The Gist to change the depth, see,

of our sea of possibillity.

When we inhale

we rememorize  our own gods.

We exhale our hell.  barefoot.  on a mat.

Whew. To all that.


When I get to go to the Gulf of Mexico

I’ll try out  into the drink,  1st thing.

I’ll try not to think when I try to let go

&  sink when I deadman’s float all day,

into what I think of as a spiritual drift, in a way.

I’ll hold onto my breath,

face down,

head down.


Muscles Quip

June 26, 2017

I confess

My prowess is

To wait & to watch &

To wit  if fate slips me a quip

Take a sip & reassess then readdress

The matter  no later than  now



February 22, 2017






Stoicism is a prison/

Though I break out/

Though I break down/

Through the  pull of a merciful act/

I can be old and too weak to hold back/

I can imagine a troubled

panicked angel tangled double;

One cat caught in a grate/

A girl unfair in a wheelchair/

Nears and dares her balance, her endurance, her tolerance/

She Strains all of her weight/

She shows the pain that she’s used to  on her face/

Then relief,

and they’re both free

She and the cat both refuse to

Cry more,

Like those that might see







(from 2008ish)


Evidently a Lie / Obviously obtusely Truth;

It’s meant to be  a pair of documents,

Y’see, But I signed both.


Caught, I could  share   the clench

He put on that  pair of documents.


Bright lights washed this whiteish room.

The solemness thing   a candle brings,

Though I searched,  all the shadows had no shade in this room.


We digressed some away from

the heart of the matter

When he stressed  my stories were

fog & mirror


I’m sure I concurred  that if

Scenes and factors shift

From tellings to retellings,

It seems the fact is   seeming  shifty.


My “But plainly, a  planned  lie,

A tall Alibi, that had ironclad  unchanging,

‘Mimicry!’  is one word-for-word bed story,

Read to children.


Isn’t that  one good bet

That wins & sets the liar free?”


I think he let it sink in, and then set.


“And you expect me to reject

Classic casebook investigation technique

& instead of  doubting inconsistency,

Instead ..One consistent story

Is a tell tale “good bet”

for Guilty?  And yet,

changing ones tune again & again  is uniquely

Honest?   it’s best to revise to clarify..

As one more clearly

recalls  new  old  details?

Just as pieces of night dreams

Resurface  into..Really??!”



“Um, yes.”





.                                       (from long ago, or maybe not)


February 18, 2017



Eli’s call came early

Cold & way too early for a new day

I was awake   unstill I dreamed

His call was a cry

As if it was for him

Insteada the other way

It was up to him

To set that we’d meet at the dimmest

Darkest strobing streetlight

Down under, next to the trestle

When I got there, so was a girl named Angel

She held on to Eli, but could hardly protect him

We all talked abit about how doctors acted, they watched lately

Fact is they were shy to grant old faithful effective cures

But daily, took chances guessing & giving crap

What well-dressed pharmaceutical promotion reps

Offered up in the morning hours


“You were once prescribed ho hum valientum”,

Eli teased, “And now Say Please

& I’ll fill your order ’till soon you’ll kill your ill-at-ease”

Angel smiled free of charge, her kind habit,

& I paid all the rest

And ran off like a rabbit.




January 13, 2017


teachers to small children

the world over

pastors to parish

they all will tell the pretty truth

(aside the pretty lies, “pretty lies”)

that crystalline snowflakes

are unique. unique.

and maybe later in both

secular schoolrooms

and sunday school classes

(and in all their varieties the world over)

small children might make snowflakes for themselves

they’ll fold lacy paper exactly in half

with a good crease

and taking their round-ended scissors

they’ll cut their very own unique cuts

so that when everyone unfolds their lacy paper

and lifts it above their heads

everyone can laugh at their uniquenesses


but one thing that ministers & mentors

rabbis & nuns will fail to add

is that those one-of-a-kind snowflakes

are all


in their descent

on icy black currents

all their night fall



It’s the coldest morning this year

And the Farmer’s Almanac says this year

There’s gonna be a winter of ’em

Me, I won’t mind

I like how loud the still is


forty years ago a brother from Chicago

called the cold wind

“the hawk”

I wonder if it’s still true

I wonder if “that muthafuckin Hawk”

is still cursed & bundled against

in the only city cited for its big blow.



When island settings lose their place

in imaginings,

When our mornings sun  there

warms our skin, bare,

There’s these shade floral sanctuaries,

And, I’m betting,  perfect for setting your eyes on…

God’s perfect line,  one horizon.

When all  won’t free you,

Won’t call you from all this freezing

Point of view,

This illusionary season,

What ttthen?





(from a decade ago)