Archive for ‘death’

May 17, 2017

reinventing the wheel

adulting is a non-stop everything, everywhere and always. no more mac-n-cheese naps with mommy and mr. rogers. keep the bathroom open. listen for the monitor. wake up early, that’s late. eat later, after the feeding. get used to it. dont try.
try not to complain. the heat will turn up. the cold will come. the furnace will die. never really had AC, so… the bills will grow higher in a pile until they start to call your phone from unknown numbers that look familiar. growing. like your gray hairs. like your thin patience. like your elongated nose and drooping ears. coffee stained teeth black holes between. like the grass when you let it go for 2 weeks. and still, humans turn to antique glass. fragile to the touch, sagging at the bottom, blemished for worth. thicker and distorted. probably gravity we blame. and the wheels will stop. and the wheels will fall off. kick them tho. be ready to get down and dirty and fix it, even if you aren’t a pro. that’s how it goes. a new something for you to find a new way to fix a new something. reinvent the wheel why don’t ya? –for gods sake. or try to imagine a time when and where things get much easier and you grow softly younger and everyone thinks positively the same, that they are happy too… and you can keep your wisdom at that.

May 2, 2017

a most tragic death

i think of an all right time
when the most tragic death occurs,
all will know, of course,
in a time of The Voice
and Reddit and justice movements
(goes along with it)
and wanting atonements and fast wishes,
so social it makes
me sick to my 8 minute abs,
more dirty than the morning dishes,
makes me want to turn eunuch introvert,
makes me want to not be invertebrate,
makes me want you to
get dressed backwards
while speaking in new snake tongues–how fun,
while your self-abuse heals you timid.
i think of it now, and i don’t cry.
i think of it now, and i don’t try.
the obituary will read:
… was a totally normal person without
any addiction problems or malfunctions,
absolutely in tune with all in the room
–you can tell by the photos and likes and comments too–proof–
… dies in a tragic Facebook accident
only somewhat entirely consumed.
yes, they did. taken too soon.
and there will be no laughter.
and there will be no hereafter.
and you won’t have to worry about what your friends will think.
because it will all be more real
than the network could handle,
more real than your profile is just now.

March 19, 2017

dad knew

i cut the shades to sunrise pale
because there was nothing there and my father.
there were words in book.
there were time spent in the recesses of my brain,
turned to gas and confusion,
lost attentions and forgotten bank statements.
where i used to fly planes even though
i would fill the bag and he would laugh.
then a plane crash. i could feel the fields
and the corn and the trees
and the dirt in the valley as we looked for that wheel
which exploded off on impact.
it was back at the hangar.
…and he used to make bombs like Uncle Sam
and blow deer heads off of walls,
they made sounds like shotguns miles away,
black trash bags and simple chemistry.
smells like someone is burning pine or trash.
cut the shades to nitrogen.
just a thought. the reflection of the house next door
and its waxen motion sensor light,
should have been changed months ago to be effective.
and nothing. cut the shades, they can see in
and i can see out
and i am sure there is nothing there.
that’s what happens with your attitude
and aspiration as you come closer to it.
to that one thing that no one talks about
and pretends isn’t there. dad knew.

February 11, 2017

skill

these poets have got skill
they ought to make gods
out of straw men
with fists up to disrupt
in groups large enough
not to miss
but for a singular idea;
for the entirety
individuality has left the building
like they say Elvis once did
and
they prefer and
persuade yours’ gone too, verily–
auf wiedersehen, jetzt;
tho irony poses a problem
when
you think about that purpose
without thinking about that principle,
a group think showing
others to not think
for themselves: so don’t; ironically,
for some everything
can be a problem, depending on the message,
similarly with the critic
at a convention of their beat–they just have to;
still there is nothing new under the sun.
but as arms of automated
recycling trucks
reaching out with care
at soon to be new old shit
these poets
could fall like building 7
16 years ago September, to grey dust
by one true statement,
fall like a beggar’s budget
at two buck chuck,
and then break
their wrists patting their own backs
as if they made
that poignant prose
so much their own,
accordingly their every breathe
is arrogance.
let’s call it “skill” anyway.

March 10, 2016

gratitude (only joking)

i would like to give thanks
to the group of artists &
poets for finding myself,
excluding me in what
would be a city musing
hell, the fording grounds
where we share likeness,
but really we don’t, really.
i found better in labored
shit, humored in the mix,
constantly waking to do
something that I didn’t
truly enjoy, living the fear
of hard judgement betwixt
going-ons and so-so works.
yeah, i found it all where
you weren’t, it was good
to not see you there, it
was good to see some actual.

January 30, 2016

when someone dies, you know

vivid
energetic
life,

to a
faded
bag
of effervescent
flesh,

inanimate
void,

a torn
latex glove,

a sack
seeped through.

bone
meal.

iron.

film.

i am here
right now.

i am
fading.

January 9, 2016

Realism in 4 Sentences

the 1st sentence:
you make it
what it truly is.
and then two:
nothing else
in this big-small
city matters,
not even the
bold peripheral
blatherings: blah,
blah, blah, blah…
or (3): the incessant
boring doldrums
of certain choice
modern artistry.
last (4) sentence:
when will your
actions reflect
this sentiment?

December 26, 2015

Fat and Bloated

Now is when I feel fat & bloated. I want
to juice cleanse and run and move and not sit
and not eat. Mario Kart seems an appropriate
lecture; people yell and scream at a tv screen.

I witness this while others are starving,
while watching A Christmas Story. Sometimes
I want to shoot my eye out. The flow of this
media is like red velvet-lined handcuffs.

Some die with their hands up on a couch.
The world is cruel. Loved ones are spoken of
at the bar. They died a few warm years back.
Peppermint drinks come in coffee mugs and

in-laws come with drunken cheer, my pants
come taut and Facebook blows up with new
engagements. I wonder if they really know.
Some give support and get it. Others don’t.

Respect comes in consumerism and what
you can bring them, and I still worry about
my weight. My youngest sister tells me I
am skinny. Jesus is on the computer screen.

The bar life in downtown is docile, a perfect
place to feel heavy and finish a $7 pitcher
of Spotted Cow; I feel better already. Growing
farther apart, and bigger, and older, and more

prone to upset all those around me. At least
I feel fat and good being myself. And some
start, and others pick winless battles. Now,
what a great time to feel fat and bloated.

December 22, 2015

how to solve all your problems

issue of the day,
and then i am better.
it’s like a light
came on in
utter twilight dark.
we couldn’t ask for more.
we couldn’t ask for less.
we couldn’t ask of ourselves.
calling signs of the time
in sighs and glaring
red eyes, we stayed
up all night to
make it to work
by nine, and tried to forget.
others complained, they had
nothing, just their words with meaning.
just their issues emboldened
of the day on social
media, so displayed.
surely we all know, and
surely we can all relate,
because we are here too
just as you, and
no different–
though you try to say,
while hoping for change
on a scrolling page.

December 14, 2015

Seeing the End

I’ve seen doors locked for all time,
purpose in moments changed,
and boxes closed indefinitely

with familiar occupants inside.
Yet, still I lift my head in ice pellets
coming down on the campus mall,

and still my view is fixed straight-
forward when allowed, and with
this aside, and taking on alternatives.

I exist in a one bedroom apartment
in Southeast, brushing teeth, put-
ting my eyeballs in to see just this.