Posts tagged ‘bike mpls’

January 23, 2016

awake: the play

A poet writes in SE Minneapolis about the trials and tribulations of a Friday night gone mildly awry. He is surrounded by the cat’s meow, a blowing electrical heater, and the buzz of a refrigerator standing in a near vacant kitchen. The sky is overcast mute through slitted shades. He broods in his mildly sarcastic Minnesotan fashion, feeling the pains of last night’s waste while coming to terms with how his workouts aren’t working out. And nothing happens…

scene 1:
to wake in uptown
fully clothed and hot,
recounting bad
pajamas and enough
beer to consume
an entire Heggies pizza.

(and people starve abroad,
and others win
the lottery at home, and he
still tries.)

here,
i’d rather see myself
in Beat coffeehouse
having conversation

about
cutting ties with
negatives, and always
smiling through the shit,

and elaborate schemes…

i’d rather be
confused and
frightened,
than comfortable
in the same
old place.

*
certain days you wake
up away, and certain days
you don’t wake up at all.

*

monologue:
but i won’t wait,
why, why sit back
at the theatre
and watch the
other performers
take what they will?

(all life is
performance art;

even the
bathroom is
theatre.)

monologue 2:
no, it was a nice way
to wake up, in the dark
on the phone with love

at five am,
to need water,
to set the alarm,
to find my glasses to
see it all perfectly
clear in grey light.

(the cold was there
waiting for him just
as it was the night
before, and he went to it.)

scene 2:
i just found myself
at the darkest place before
i came back home
huffing on a cold bike,

and someone at the open
mic knew my name,

still all the words for
the poem were lost
in alcohol and water,
in laughs and sighs.

they snapped at the wrong
parts and guffawed
at pigment jokes;

i guess pink is a funny color.

scene 3:
so, sitting over
simple english and
talking academia
with coffee on my breath

i found the song
i had searched months
for and wrote it down
with my blog link
shamelessly on the back of
someone else’s ephemera,

then i stuck it to a blackboard
and biked with thin layers
from south to north,

to home to shower,
to think i think.

this is where you can find me.
awake.

FIN

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January 3, 2016

(being lazy) all through the city

being lazy is my favorite thing to do.
i bike to West Photo to get 35mm film.
i drop money at the bank to pay rent.
i go on Nicollet to get fitted for a suit.
being lazy is great, as it pervades me.
i sit at The Local in downtown and talk.
i notice the bartender and server going.
i tell a joke & move thru tore up streets.
being lazy is my favorite thing to do.
i think i am doing this task so well.
i walk to magazine boxes placing art.
i write poems and prose and no one cares.
i think of how Monday there is change.
i think of how tonight is really tomorrow.
i meet local celebrities and have a chat.
i forget names and don’t mention it.
i get a discount for being a smartass.
i try not to find excuses for being me.
i try not to hear excuses for being you.
being lazy is my favorite thing to do.
i drink water instead of vodka bloodies.
i walk out on the ice and drink a beer.
i take photos of a sunset over trees.
i love the blue sky which lights me pale.
being lazy is my favorite thing to do.
being this lazy takes up so much time.

January 29, 2015

Winter Biking

While biking thru the winter months, in bitter cold and snow;
There is no excuse or reprieve, just cause to go.

September 21, 2014

Seasonal Realism

Strong Autumn winds blow in;
Through trees, on a whim- these limbs,
Birds,
and shadows made of them.

Exhausted year, once again…

Sincere,
Biers and tears,
Free and easy,
Mind’s been cleared.

Coming up wasted and frustrated-
Elliot Smith came up roses,
Empty handed impatience,
Changing mindset with practiced poses.

Some of the best luck of all time,
Some of the unluckiest best times,
Some logic takes heavy loads off minds.
Some laziness, what!? -The awful crime.

Round corners above pavement,
On a bike,
Life is dangerous,
Backpack filled with book pages,

I promise…

Summer’s gone recently, but not for long,
This weather; indifferent, right, or wrong.

The Midwest is at least unique in that it is unpredictable in clime.
And I imagine Simon and Garfunkel will enjoy their vodka and lime.

October 31, 2012

Wake Up Downtown

Waking up to a situation with you.

 

Blond hair and ruffled blankets; sitting up naked.

Nothing new, same deal, same issues.

Remaining relatively true.

 

Things aren’t as bad as they seem.

This is true, true.

I don’t know about you.

 

Socks, shoes, contacts stick to blue eyes like glue.

Hello to the mirror on the wall, trying to see things clear.

Asking who is the fairest of them all?

 

I see me.

 

Counting, looking around to see this fantasy bathroom stall.

Then I leave, then I disappear with much sound.

 

Sun light, so bright.

 

Getting up, not my bed.

Just another night.

 

Getting up, she turns her head.

She says.

Wish we could be here all day.

 

I say,

I say.

 

Right.

 

Yeah, only in dreams.

Right.

 

Then I found myself on my way.

I found what the weather patterns mean.

 

On my bike, looking left, looking right.

Cars, gas, fumes, liability, citations, cash, and frustration.

What a sad sight.

 

Drivers waiting patient, like a logical fallacy.

 

To 3rd, to Central, to parking lot and sidewalk, to Nicollet, these are places where I will never get lost.  Downtown habit is a chronic pathway to the day, individuals traveling in every which way.  From the Stonearch Bridge to the Grain Belt sign Minneapolis is on the mind.  The weather is chilled, same as the attitudes.  People standing in line to have a good time, most never move on.  Who is wasting time?

I coast and back pedal only in travel…

 

Getting up, haven’t slept like this since birth, since last month.

Getting up and outside to see what its worth, to open my eyes.

Gift or curse I’ll figure it when it arrives.

 

I thought this as I waved goodbye.