Posts tagged ‘human’

May 6, 2018

a trip to the zoo (and Disclaimer)

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***

through the zoo.
wheelchairs, strollers, phones;
pedestrians, families, staff on phones;
everyone on phones, capturing
videos of things not on their phones:
glass, zebra, giraffe, fish, primates, et al.
interesting, i think about
the monkeys the most, moving, trapped…
do they want to be here?
do i want to be here?
watching them?
do they want to be on that person’s Facebook
or Instagram, do they like likes as well?
i don’t know.
i am gentleman animal, a zoo apart.
i know that in crowds tho,
i can’t get by
or go away easily with the stroller i push.
always: risk assessment.
please, human, i don’t want to be trampled.
i suppose our flaws define our paranoia, uselessly.
#dadlife, right now.
our animal minds change for our progeny.
food, housing, money, college, college debt, mortgage, retire.
that’s why the monkey shares its food.
it knows better to have a credit card.
why the monkey doesn’t kill it, rather starve to protect.
why the monkey… well, it’s there.
in buildings smelling of hot dogs and donkey shit.
we toil hard through the weekend days in the sun.
the tiger grazes.
the lioness croons, then culls a mate.
people care about how they look virtually, online.
in lines they wait for cotton candy, t-shirts or popcorn.
i am down at the zoo, down-gazing.
i want to get out to the field.
applying sunscreen, getting hungry.
time to walk out to freedom.
and i do.
but i feel bad for those
left there when it’s dark: the sloth and the mouse.
i guess i am not sure entirely
but someone with us left a donation at the door.
now’s you turn to do the same.

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February 4, 2018

pulling teeth

its mostly not the procedure
but the repetitive nature of it
that suffers in the end.

January 26, 2018

waiting for the green line train at west bank station in the snow and cold and heat around 4:36 p.m.

the smell of a late afternoon lunch
enough, enough for snow to melt
imagining debt without a time clock
or vise versa–in some time only fixated…
dusting between keys on a keyboard, jet black
creating something like this, and that, unnoticed unawares
moby-dick for meaning of meaningful meaning
they tell me i have books to pick up
some stand on the shelves like straight soldiers
some crack like and egg in my hand at breakfast
they tell me have a good weekend & we just got over the flu
google will better my photo of West Bank, only soon
words won’t come so easy after that tune
some things just look better in digital format
i will wait for the train, again, here
amongst people who wait for the train, again, here
praising not having to wait for her, once were
wondering what’s in that guys hand, that guys bag
no one puts things on the floor anymore
picking up my little man
waiting for another to arrive–O’ plans: we had
and he asked me what i was eating as if it were bad
i told him what and who made it, of course
man my stomach was starting to feel good just then
thought this before the train came.

December 8, 2017

best thing ever (dadlife)

being a dad is the best thing ever,
every day is the set of Home Alone;
toys every where and not.
laughs like me, cant believe.
leftovers make a secular search for god.
wondering what people do w/o progeny.
here: smiles, hugs, kisses, squeals.
away from family: a wasted life, my ideals.
my identity politic is father, parent–never stop.
is there a movement for me, a protest?
daycare should have been a savings plan.
healthcare should be for free.
i am a parent too: parental leave?
these are minor things for the positive he brings.
always, i get to come home to
the idea of raising a new person.
of giving everything for someone else.
of not caring about what
everyone has to say about bullshit that doesn’t matter,
only a little man who speaks baby
and doesnt judge hard and
can tell all with paralanguage
that he has a poopy or pee-pee or he cant sleep.
(well neither can i, but i cant change it. ;))
or that he loves me. no stranger gives you that.
no group can make you feel.
no great positive review, book of poetry, no other adoration.
no award is worth it in so many ways.
write some modern prose about that if you can.
if you havent i suggest you try.
i dont miss wasted hours in bed anymore.
confused about where. now, i am me, standing.
happy to be here and have a buddy.
happy to wake up and know
that i have to be my best so he can too.
nothing like it in the world.
its something to see.

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.

March 30, 2017

press on strong…

every day to the last,
and make that so.

December 11, 2016

mission control, i got a cold.

ah… mission control,
my pink floyd head
can’t handle the
layered, fluffy driven
snow. i thought
about that easy idea
for a moment and
shoveled it past fast;
a dog’s muted bark echoes;
beyond cut crystals
that adorn clear glass.
what a cold day to be
spreading out on this
red yoga mat, sooo ready
to take a shit,
ready to sip my coffee
with some honey in it,
in a tall white mug.
sort-of, kind-of like me
in the right light.
ah… mission control,
where is john glenn,
where is our politics
as usual, where is
my old cold medicine?
got to watch meet
the press, got to…
tell me what i should do.

July 22, 2016

encouragement

i duly note that dashed dreams
and commonplace tragedies
are not exclusive to any party
in particular whatsoever;
though after, it’s about picking
oneself up, though after, it’s
about how you crawl from
your imminently destined grave.

you,
so…

May 13, 2016

15 minutes or less

i see desperation in this fable:
they want to be so badly noticed
for situations and placement
of mainstream sordid pasts;
not unlike the light rail horns
at stray pedestrians midst tracks,
headphones in–blaring, at Huron’s bend.
and we pray they see it coming,
the rumble, the sharp metal–over…
and we don’t decipher to which god,
make believe for a lifestyles–
(why tell them any different?)
someone or something has to stop it,
at the corner of life and death, trivial
and just about noticed for nothing
there are people watching content.

March 11, 2016

walking the dale at lunch

Stepping through tall blonde prairie grass
I leave one modern world quickly behind,
busy it buzzes & calls in sirens & hums,
lost out here on my own, biding my time.