Posts tagged ‘MN’

February 17, 2018

375

cold, and the famous old man statue
conjures me with a grimace of polished rust.
walking the circle on St Paul campus, I see
naked trees, they are hung up with rope;
scholars going somewhere on them to the the sunshine.
just above the snow and ice and frost and knots.
cutting my buzzed sheen head, skimming my glance.
a glare off the white. constant this time, lunch…
and we just spoke softly of bugs and his Vietnam
and Hodson in letters, inquests, and ways to
go about taking care of others’ dogs.
and making dog food and fixing end boards.
cold, there, cold outside. had a coffee too.
just walking around the circle, such is life.

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January 31, 2018

Hamline Midway fireside reads

Good coffee, free took a question
im frugal and saving and doing
a stanger knew my face the other day
something about staring into abyss
envy–not me, just teaching words
fireside chat, stack these books up
painting smiles on windowpanes
outside cold it comes again
beautiful: adorned w/ dried adult acne
more questions, more work, more…
honesty, honestly adulting
cookies they wont share, dont ask
meet my boy at bedtime, night man
i cant be everyone’s excuse anymore
excuse me, im teaching language here
my stand up comedy goes over better
they want to sell books in a library
i want some movies and quiet and peace
doors then snow then home
watch the gkass for shadows i cant see

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.

January 18, 2018

I wonder how much #WordPress makes for these advertisements…

we are the coffee pot high marks,
cold shower goose pimples,
cold shell outdoors,
adverts between posts
machines making money, the most,
and living on piqued hopes.
i wonder where they come from?
reality attuned–or askew?
skilled in many topics,
including topics like you,
including flying to the moon,
including AC in June.
but that’s logic anyway.
still no idea really.
can’t care: too many mouths to feed.
too many days not fishing,
too many walks in the weeds.
i still see my dad in me.
haven’t visited that stone though.
like elvis, tupac, and biggie.
somewhere exotic, secret home, alone, you know.
i am cheap coffee grounds, again.
barely breakfast, usually little lunch.
no inheritance.
words between ads that don’t pay me.
but i pull for that company.
thanks wordpress.
thanks, now i care.

December 17, 2017

Breaking News is Tragic Theatre, bring Popcorn

While the world is ending
supposedly (every day now per whoever…)
i want to eat pizza and cheese curds,
drink fresh water and OJ and
watch the Vikings win in real time
and dream about good weather. SUch Fantasy.
Weekends are dead before they begin anyway.
Pounding words into a strange keyboard morning,
hacking lifeblood into some toilet.
I thought antibiotics would help.
I thought the inhaler would help.
Telling me there is bigger problems
for people who aren’t me, damn.
but when you shut off the TV there aren’t
very many to remember, recalling,
so why would I want it to remind me so?
We play cards against humanity.
We want fair but fair ain’t that great.
And we put the seat up out of respect.
We ask for scandal because it interests,
stake our claims on being
taken for fools, look see: news. Buy this new thing.
Tell her you love her with consumerism.
All while the world is ending.
Can a person resign from this animal planet?
I am selling my whole life to make ends meet.
tho maybe they don’t want to.
paying medical bills and insurance simultaneously to no avail.
One bag, drill, shoe, tent, book at a time.
This channel will tell me all about all
the problems I should focus on today, because.
Still some people just die in traffic.

December 2, 2017

focused concerns of perspective

self
me
i,
here
now
and…

*

because not many people
give me a peanut butter
sandwich for lunch nowadays
but the writer of this poem.

*

never knowing one self
never knowing others how
they feel inside
can’t know me— leaves
a subjective flaw
of understanding
but some get it,
i guess–if that is possible.
Perhaps. You get you maybe.
so tell me what i think.

*

dislike of ideals
yet write only in the language.

calling from a stance of calling
allowed as it is, allowed,

granted.

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November 17, 2017

paths (something rich)

where do we all go?
where do we all start?
i walked on a bridge early this morning
frigid cold–blurred sluice
and through a hall, stuffy
the men smelled good
or their musk did, anyway, like money–
reminded me of the dead
reminded me of my dad
tried so hard to impress all, everyone
who is that though, really?
nothing can’t know
can’t know nothing, so…
a bridge that tells us how it is, how to feel
tries to teach us clearly
and then tells us to just believe
it’s like this and like that and so on
hypothetically, imagine a bumper sticker:
don’t question the moon landing,
don’t objectively view the coldest November
in the hottest year ever,
some ideas rooted in beliefs–religion,
exactly explaining concepts that aren’t laws
with fluid language changing, unindelible,
to match your mood, now, or movement, then,
i am voting for the perfect robot in 2020…
still very hard to tell
we all can’t be English majors or theorists
where we are all from, just looking
but where we are all going to some day
that’s something rich

November 12, 2017

sunday apex

Beautiful Sunday morning
dark AM morphing from
empty pews’ attrited time
to quiet hymns breathing sigh

November 1, 2017

… as the snow flies

i am good right here…
entranced by November snows
in gray hues, just outside,
changing my mind’s moments
like daylight savings.
each flake fat,
each ascent confused,
to wetted ground’s pools below.
good right here, right now–I. I…
waiting, watching through a film of plastic
and time and clime and ah… OK.
spastic motions, prison of chairs.
legs get stiff, what are feet for, again?
biding my time patient, that snow out there.
it’s coming down liberated and seasoned.
Reflecting somewhat jealous.
at some point i have to leave.

October 26, 2017

Human nature theatre

The victor
The defeated
The excusist
The pen genius
The victim
The god
The king
Or the fool…
I prefer the butterfly
I prefer chaos
I prefer audience member
I prefer observation
Of it all
Just looking now
Needing a better view