Archive for ‘Poetry’

October 16, 2016


this Hercules coffee
& sleepless dreams,
got me shaking the cold off,
happy to be seen.

October 6, 2016

for all the best

i am sugar donuts
and black coffee
and wind chimes

inquiry in verse,
and what’s
in the hearse?

i am 5:45 AM male
alarm clock abuse,
small minded climates,
readying my self
for which worst
choice to choose.

for all the best.
for all the better.
for all whatever.

October 3, 2016

the best day

the best day you have on record
is the one you have before you.
new adventure, for a new day break,
now moments, moments to go.
more coffee, another inspiration;
another set back to make changes.
certain dreams of those so gone
that something may come of yours.

October 1, 2016


i have keys to define me,
a crowded key ring full
for opening doors to…
going from here,
here to there and back.
going where ever.
these keys define me,
golden and silver keys–
some crowned with plastics–
their lovely worn patina,
pressed so hard as
to their cold metal form.
looped at my wide hips,
locked on a levered loop.
reaching for somewhere,
hands going any place,
so many keyholes to poke.
turning, antiquated mechanisms.
this life of access…
she tells me my keys
weigh me down so much,
pants drop loud to the floor.
long day of carrying on.
must weigh an actual ton,
or must weigh like
a couple hundred pounds…
something pretty heavy.
but so important, the masters are,
they’re “*” adorned;
if you lose them, –fuck,
they have to rekey it all.
literally, not just given out
to anyone who walks into the joint.
a heart attack for misplacement.
this is no joke.
i keep mine with my “life-keys”.
told as the very day
they first came to me.
i did not coin that term,
but it is truly endearing.
and it is truly important: these keys.
kind of like where you go.
and how you get to where you go.
these keys to define me.
these keys to define you.
these keys to define we.
defined by these words.
these are not my words,
someone else’s…
they are used to define these keys.
these are not my words.
they come from the past.
doors with no keys.
invisible and weightless, and free.

* a specific letter.

September 27, 2016


paint it



you choose
to use,

i still
have eyes.

do you see?

September 24, 2016


when does the rationale come back?
this morning a skein flew easterly
as a stinky cat ate wet grass in cool air.
cooking shows and mall shootings.
there is still a lone shooter at large…
but not here, that was in Washington.
i probably won’t go shopping today anyway.
anyway cars moved past overgrown front lawns,
a radio played classically forgetful songs,
and seven:eleven was my wake up time.
nothing much for a saturday stay,
the police scanner glows on its stand.
i’ll eat leftovers of last night: pizza.
but i won’t talk on yesterday’s toils much.
rationale, certain hormones change minds
at times, they make me want to buy.
i’d go to Amsterdam–the pub, and drink
and talk of Irish counties and transport,
the weather and such in the back of a truck
what luck? crammed, called ignorant for
having viewpoints different, but does
that make you what they loudly say?  Different.
(i put much thought in putting in much thought.)
probably not. probably doesn’t matter.
probably rationale skewed by language used,
delete the tweet, ah, but O’ the screenshots:
that is the way the local government works,
tho you Canot do that, or can you? Perhaps? IDK.
leaders, that term can be used very loosely;
leaders are people too, they come with faults.
pondered doxing most of the afternoon, true.
bribes, lines, demands, and political chides.
not much for the actual people proper.
a sort of smoke screen, photo cropper.
not too much to for me though…
Again, the birds and the cat and the neighbor.
i love everyone and their ideas, how could you not?
and when does the rationale come back?
people must have lost it calling other’s flaws
not factoring in their own, tho, not alone.
rationale has been lost for the masses.
but what is that? and who is going to interpret it as so?

September 20, 2016


Dear person who wants to die at the Westgate train station, I’m sure the police officer doesn’t care if you like to hang your legs over the station by the tracks in the cool breeze near rush hour traffic, astride power lines and atmospheric pressure waves of interference. But you would be a hell of a something to clean up, so why don’t you give the fine transportation people of this lovely city a break and get back beyond the yellow line. I guess we are all trying to go somewhere, and not ruin an other’s day. No one is special, except maybe you.

September 18, 2016

La Crescent Haiku #1

Fog of deep valley
drifts away from verdant bluffs.
Small town soul revealed.

September 13, 2016

birth of idea in the age of money (untouchables)

as i turn on the boob tube
to local frost warnings
and bright light
an inspiration is born.
something surely new.
something surely different.
as wafting aroma of morning coffee
kept cool in the fridge
then poured out neat in a cup.
low dew points: free!
some commercials sing.
sell me more, like their press.
why don’t you sell poetry?
blinking and bouncing colors.
loving the breeze
that wraps me through
the window as i sit nude
thinking on meetings
and projects and lifestyles
on some cat-torn up couch.
how we all get around.
how we all are targets.
just a touch of some Button on a remote.
at some remote location.
living room centered.
in the middle of everything,
and nowhere and somewhere,
and some inspiration is born
just like this,
and we can all relate.
but will we give it that way
as we ourselves get?
Commercialism. Capitalism. Nepotism.
those are still in the art you read.
will we acknowledge the acknowledgeable
which too makes us
and we find unique when it is not?
probably i don’t know.
probably go buy their works.
some tell of “privilege” i guess.
tell stories they don’t “know”.
tho are your friends publishers,
curators, or the media?
make em’ more realistic as if given.
if so, it’s all good.
if not, go fish. my inspiration grows.
tho i am pale, tired, and typical.
where is the kitchen sink?
i suppose they are right if they believe.
here is the father of some idea.
something already been said.
something apathetic, something me.

September 9, 2016

understandings of a future father

…if you are pregnant in minnesota
you (i guess) carry twice as much blood;
therefore, occasionally you will find
that mosquitos really do love you.