Riding Hood
Death has never treated me so savage
I’ve been waiting up for the moon to will itself to change form
I’ve been waiting up for the moon to will itself to change form
No Strings
No Strings
I was your whole book back then.
You devoured me.
Your window to a new world
with a word on everything,
I encouraged you
to write your
own world.
You did that
but ended up with
more characters
than space.
So you cut me down from chapter
to paragraph
to sentence
to full
stop.
Then being modern,
you dispensed with
punctuation
altogether
The Spot Where the Moon Turns the Tide
These dreams I dreamt now flow beneath me
Like still shoals, turned rash and alive -
Came to the shore of my being and grabbed me
With the tough, algae hand of the tide.
I awaken in mystical waters
Near caverns where mermaids come to die;
The point where the light turns to shadows,
The spot where the moon turns the tide.
I sat in dark corners and wept there,
For what I’d seen and for what I couldn’t find
For the people, the things that are gone now,
Like still shoals, turned rash and alive -
Came to the shore of my being and grabbed me
With the tough, algae hand of the tide.
I awaken in mystical waters
Near caverns where mermaids come to die;
The point where the light turns to shadows,
The spot where the moon turns the tide.
I sat in dark corners and wept there,
For what I’d seen and for what I couldn’t find
For the people, the things that are gone now,
artist
all you need is a madness
a brokenness
Flowers
You treat me
the way
the world treats
flowers
Admiring the beauty
for a while
Untitled 10/26/16a
I need a haircut.
And a new job.
I’ve taken to skipping breakfast, too.
Coffee fills me up.
On the way to work
I see kids huddle together at the bus stop.
I feel sorry for them.
They so want to grow up.
I so want to roll down my window and yell,
“Just ride your bikes, play in cricks
And run home to warm dinners,
Quick, while there’s still time!”
We used to jump the crick a la Evel Knievel,
Plastic football helmets on our heads,
Spangled streamers trailing from handlebars.
And a new job.
I’ve taken to skipping breakfast, too.
Coffee fills me up.
On the way to work
I see kids huddle together at the bus stop.
I feel sorry for them.
They so want to grow up.
I so want to roll down my window and yell,
“Just ride your bikes, play in cricks
And run home to warm dinners,
Quick, while there’s still time!”
We used to jump the crick a la Evel Knievel,
Plastic football helmets on our heads,
Spangled streamers trailing from handlebars.
Andy Warhol Remembers Jon Gnagy
Andy Warhol Remembers Jon Gnagy
(America’s Television Art Teacher)
I learned to draw watching TV.
You, with your cool goatee,
showed how to make, with dazzling self-taught skill,
a mountain setting, old grist mill,
or roads of cobblestones.
With simple strokes and monochromatic tones,
a bronco’s tail, an oak tree’s bough—
it was astounding how
they came to life in minutes. Plain old chalk
would prance across the pad. You’d talk
about a snowy summit.
Then there it was! My eyes could not move from it.
(America’s Television Art Teacher)
I learned to draw watching TV.
You, with your cool goatee,
showed how to make, with dazzling self-taught skill,
a mountain setting, old grist mill,
or roads of cobblestones.
With simple strokes and monochromatic tones,
a bronco’s tail, an oak tree’s bough—
it was astounding how
they came to life in minutes. Plain old chalk
would prance across the pad. You’d talk
about a snowy summit.
Then there it was! My eyes could not move from it.
Dino Air
Dino Air
Two hundred million years ago
the world was damp as dew and hot
and pterosaurs were soaring. No
expert can say precisely what
caused creatures to grow so darned colossal.
(Hard to tell from a tight-lipped fossil.)
Far lower in oxygen, that air
was good enough for dinosaurs.
Red tongues of lava licked the bare
and verdant spots alike. The jaws
of giant chasms opened wide
and life was in for a bumpy ride.
After Pangaea’s porcelain crust
cracked up, each crenulated coast
Two hundred million years ago
the world was damp as dew and hot
and pterosaurs were soaring. No
expert can say precisely what
caused creatures to grow so darned colossal.
(Hard to tell from a tight-lipped fossil.)
Far lower in oxygen, that air
was good enough for dinosaurs.
Red tongues of lava licked the bare
and verdant spots alike. The jaws
of giant chasms opened wide
and life was in for a bumpy ride.
After Pangaea’s porcelain crust
cracked up, each crenulated coast
DECONTAMINATED?
Detecting a 'throbbing', but not a 'pulse'
Exposed to harsh elements undisclosed
Churning bowels and chest-cavity convulse
Overly open and underly closed
Nightmares and reality juxtaposed
Trembling in teeth, lips, fingers, and knees
Aging, staging, partially decomposed
Melting madly in multiple degrees
Internally hollow/ empty unease
Nauseating nights/ days deluged with germs
Adjusting to life/ this fatal disease
Testing completed, (as doctor confirms)
Embrace me now, let us act as adults:
Desist from insults, just read the results..
Exposed to harsh elements undisclosed
Churning bowels and chest-cavity convulse
Overly open and underly closed
Nightmares and reality juxtaposed
Trembling in teeth, lips, fingers, and knees
Aging, staging, partially decomposed
Melting madly in multiple degrees
Internally hollow/ empty unease
Nauseating nights/ days deluged with germs
Adjusting to life/ this fatal disease
Testing completed, (as doctor confirms)
Embrace me now, let us act as adults:
Desist from insults, just read the results..
The Lateral Eclipse of Bound Sunsets
Never believing the awkward
scalpel of an invidious paraclete
or the razors of those recently
consigned to public scrutiny
could carve intaglios of flesh
deep in his paramour’s arms,
how could he have imagined
the fleet collaborations and
juxtapositions of stained youth,
such a veritable inheritance
in the swelter of the moment
during a long dusk in Tours,
postprandial espresso and
hot buttered croissants
cooling on the marble table