Friday, June 30, 2006

Teleology

I have to
hold them in the world
because I can't see without them.

If they would not agree
part of the world would
stop existing and I would be
left in a void.

So I am glad when they love
and take joy in you.
That means they are staying.

And when they do their work
and all the figures we share are real for them
I step onto a solid Earth and
everything has its name.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

The Hike

The sun
hunches up over a cloud,
sweating

I swagger
over the broad inner thigh
of the Earth

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

My Formative Bedroom

The room is in the finshed attic.
A secret door leads to a crawl
space where my father keeps
his dirty books,
available and taboo.

The Lone Ranger wall paper
tells lies about the world: cactus
symbols where they do not belong
and happy, beady-eyed angels
riding hard, athletic horses.

Where are these stories
and when do they start?

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Hubris Code

Boastful oaths
are illegal unless you are dying.
If you feel the law you know.
If you feel

The Law you know
how someOne writes the law
along gradients of air and skin
that wild creatures argue about.

They are erect
or they are dogged down
and knees are designed to show
how down they are.

You will not risk it
says The Law.
You dare not claim
too much.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Hard Day's Night

After a day of
flesh and blood
flesh and blood,
weight and
momentum and truth,

I need a micro-moment
of dishonest appearences,
a freaky
Aristotelean dream.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

The Starver

These birds that appear regularly in my dreams,
neglected pets which I hide in the cellar
are probably getting mad at me now.
They need me and I don't feed them.
I'm afraid to look and see how they are.

Those children neglected in cages,
left to starve,
my houseplants which I look at
and never have time to water,
they are all getting angry at me.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

The Dream Birds Didn't Starve

When by accident
I end in that familiar corner
I find the birds I was
neglecting as pets still alive.
Eating someone else's droppings.

And newcomers,
much larger than the others,
with clay colored skins
grown out of the sand and litter
hover and nibble the leaves from spice trees.

I am gagged in cobweb threads
but I think the large spider hides.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Choosing The Present

When he suggested
I write the history of my life
in past tense, this is what I said.

This is biblical
present tense as in
"We all receive Torah at the mountain
and redemption from the crossing of the sea."

Don't expect logic.
It's primitive talk,
loin cloth memories,
the vestigial language of daydream.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Alternative Politics

I am twenty-eight.
We members of the Party
of Freedom and Peace
climb the three flights
in the dark building
through the chill
and open the door
with its milky glass to the
Mickey Spillane office.

We are in hiding.
We hide and conspire about
economy, hope and no hope
misery and riches.

I am 12 years old
and stealing cigarettes
hiding in a spidery
rail road hut
torturing myself with vices.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Sour Cream Supper

It's summer
and the subject of
supper comes up.

I ask her if she wants
potatos and sour cream for supper.
There is cream, yes.

She tells me her father
used to like vegetables in cream
when she was young.

I say there was a name for that,
an old name, I can't recall it.
Nobody cares about those old names anymore.

I think of water.
Years ago in the heat
I would always have the hope of a submersion,

in waters murky or clear,
seeing light refracted away from the sun.
It's cool,

cool.
I don't let that
sentiment upset me.

Friday, June 02, 2006

The Fraternity of Ticks

Living in a country of my mind
built on the skeleton of real life,

I travel through the temples of grass,
visit civilizations of the creatures

and hear the music of the
ancient languages they speak.

The tiny spiders that flake onto me
from the leaves of the bush organelles

come crawling out of the creases in my clothes
looking for the tender places in my flesh,

carrying the prehistoric message,
"we take your blood when you come to watch."