Archive for ‘free play’

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 5, 2017

a timed view at 814 S. 12th

my early eyes cut to
the open window at our landing
a pink and orange rising
on some neighbor’s siding wall,
outside quiet,
unobtrusively unannounced,
where grass shakes as strips of paper
leaves stand still as burning effigies
and time waits for a moment.
all life is here and now
the release–of breath of soul of whatever…
and somehow moving on
is less of a chore for this than
sudden death, than surgery, than worry–
and it lingers all the more
touching you softly where it hurts
grabbing you lightly away from your words.
i beg to take a photo of it
that captures such brilliance
but i would only my waste time
with that greedy thought,
and miss the meaning just passed.

April 30, 2017

new motivation: no reprieve, no peace

they say fix one problem at a time
and then you reach the base of a mountain,
trying to stay warm and dry
and then it rains–why?,
you can see the dampness on the walk outside.
they tell you to get a real job,
get a second too, and still you are a slave
for land that you will never own
and always pay for on your own, drone…
and most of the poets i know talk about the
biggest problems/issues/talking points, ones that are truly
out of the imagination across the nation–seems
nice and unbelievable, only because
i have fought wars over paying rent
abused furniture because of college debt.
it was really nothing personal, but it follows your person.
as if just doing and getting focused is cake.
seems nice to be able to forget, to relate.
seems nice to be able to hesitate, wait…
doing that no more, the more chores.
rents in St Paul are like walking through closed steel doors.
and then you wake up in it.
decide, now. buy now. i want to hide now, some how.
all ashamed, all to blame, all made UP, games.
solve one of them at a time,
and the floodgates just opened,
flames in a paper factory surrounded by 40 gas stations,
and about a million dying suns,
and they start another protest.
they write another book that their editor/publisher friends like.
i am just hoping the tomatoes don’t die
in the backyard cold–draped with ragged blankets
that might be food later,
and that another collection agency doesn’t call
i’ve tried to block them all…
all because i was sick
all because of insurance
all because of medical
all because of this.
i told my colleague a joke onetime about how if
the mafia came and broke your legs with baseball bats
you would have to deal with something worse
right after:
and that is the health care industry
of america. yeah. go fix that, you activists.
i pray that you never get sick, in a secular way.
one thing at a time, becoming an extra.
now please donate to my cause.

April 5, 2017

social sensitivities

here i see social sensitivities
so let’s stretch
his hands out and ride the 16
to the 67 to wind in the face and more wait…

or really cry about
something that won’t happen, ever.
like justices being served in prison terms;
like i won a million dollars.
and the crux of the biscuit is:

we know jason isbell personally,
sort of through someone else, a best friend,
through someone else, a wife,
through someone else, a bandmate
and probably not.

Bourdain said it right tho…
right there on the tv
with Bill Murray over Budweiser
or whisky or wine or food or jagermeister…

all because of a tee shirt
all because of a wet cough

and some sort of talk about needed monies.
but that’s truly a redundancy.

seeing pretty houses and i might buy mine own
all from the comfort of this overpriced rental,
on my living room couch,
just sitting next to you.

March 30, 2017

press on strong…

every day to the last,
and make that so.

March 29, 2017

Grandad Bluff, the Mesa and Giant Monkey Head

i learned that Grandad Bluff is a true mesa
that scans the westerly horizon
and surveils the haunted currents
of the Mississippi.  learned it
wasn’t a giant looming under the soil,
ready to outstretch and become massive.  
though it spired peaks appears
as some monkey ossature, missing abdomen,
fore shoots it’s broken visage grimace.  
heard of people falling off after
being chased by fourwheelers.  used to
drink draught at Witches and Jesus
and imagine the things that happened between trees.  
old times they wanted to turn
it to dust and money but Hixon stopped it.  
thank you Hixon.  i learned about Grandad Bluff
and missed my history because
one was already made before me long ago,
i suppose that is how it is with most things though.  
feel a part, not really, aren’t,
then you read what it is all about.  
still i love La Crosse for what it is:
a port city ready for a cold one
waiting for the weekend
always has your back even
if it’s a total dick sometimes.
and they talk about the water and health.

March 28, 2017

how to be a thoughtful globalist in the wake of fake intellectuals

this would make me empassioned, or
impassioned.  i am passionate about this something…
that’s how i get
when neo-globalists
who’ve never left the states
try to fix
other people’s problems
with
their English language exclusively.
the irony of westernization; fixed only by itself. YOU SEE?
and that is what they call backwards and selfish.
tho, there will be no stories of this on the news.
because just get out there and disrupt because.
and they should
call those who
think locally “nationalists” too.
a bunch of loud fools.
you know, somethings don’t translate.
you know, people might have different opinions.
this is how language works.
so when they/you designate
their/your ideas, ideations, and ideologies
as such, i just smh in realtime.
so silly, so stupid, so same.
that is why i am a where-ever-i-am-at-ist,
because i am right there,
i can attempt to understand
what i see and experience around me,
for me, for truth, for better.
maybe even for you…
but honestly, not for you (i don’t care)
or the tv (forget tv), i won’t facebook livestream it
or create a clever sign that
gets thrown away next day in some ironic carbon footprint
(that you too should actually hate)
after the post and the filter and the likes–fretter fakes.
and that is what i am passionate about,
or empassioned about, or impassioned about,
all that is around me
because i can touch it tangible,
as they said, i can feel the real,
i can set the clock next to the bed.
and there is something about language and labels.

March 25, 2017

coulee region, 6 am

The rounded mesas
were verdant sheen in predawn hue
and to the east
steam plumes were standing tall
and the sun
when it rose caught river currents
in the fore
so that they came
entwined to one another
on the earth,
the sun all aglow, sharp,
and the river a ghost mirror reflecting,
as if
they were lovers
of common grounds
beyond whose husks melted worlds away
past all understanding.

March 24, 2017

sense of humor/body image

sometimes
no matter how
hard
you work out
your core
or sculpt your body
to perfection
or sweat it out
or believe in yourself,
it still
doesn’t change
your fucked up attitude
no matter
which
mirror you pose in front of
no matter how
many selfies you take
from whichever different angles…

only a
ripped sense of humor
can
make that pretty or attractive or sexy,
only that
can do that,
only laughs
will jack that shit up.

what does a gym
membership go for
for that?  

March 23, 2017

so much variety a person couldn’t find the same publisher in a room of twin publishers, with the same ideologies and inspirations and movements and where their coffers catch ($)

conform
or be
ignored.