Sunday, October 29, 2006

Sex Roles: A Natural Nastiness Poem

"I get more lovin'
from a dum dum dummy
than I ever got
from you."

--popular song sung by Louis Armstrong

There is no doubt to me
that a man can create
a wonderful girl.
Men have women in their minds
as often as beating each other up.
Making females is a permanent habit.

I could be satisfied
with the woman created by a man.
She would be free of the dusty imperfections
that nature imposes on creatures,
and do the things which make her creator
love her. It would work on me too.

Women never bother making men.
They never learn how and don't care.
Women are satisfied being themselves
and that's
not enough any more.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Superhero Dream: A Natural Nastiness Poem

It feels so queer to be all sticking out,
air wiggling around down there
because I had not put on my pants.
That's how it feels in my dream.

Jim sits in front of me on the other bed.
I tell him there is going to be
some kind of disaster, soon.
He laughs.

With the girl whose room I stole
I have to argue face to face
because my wife has other plans.
She doesn't look down.

When everything suddenly freezes,
I also suffocate. Jim turns
into a kind of man fly,
one of THEM no doubt.

I have to break Jim's
mouth parts with my hand.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Conversation and Encounter

This is the formula of common speech:
I, thing, I, thing, I, and I,
good, bad, good, I...

thing, like, hate, thing, I,
sometimes you, rarely feeling,

I talk to you
as lightening strikes
and our faces are bare.

You don't
talk to me in formulas
and what you say

are turning
and twisting

Saturday, October 21, 2006

"Almost Full" to be reviewed in Ascent Aspirations

The Best Whine

starts high in the
birth of a breath
sloughs to deflation
flipity flopping,
an elastic gas ballet
charming the ladies
drawn down until
terminated only
by the need
for air.

I think I just want a seat at the table. Or to put it another way,

I want to be
a small taste
of sweetened carrot
that God recalls
when rising from supper.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

The Chat Room

The last few years
I have had the social life
of a worm, passing through
realms of laughter along a one
dimensional line.

I know you are there
but I can only see symbols
of your presence
one at a time. I don't
hear your breath.

Last year at a tea,
I met a woman in
her nineties. And as we
talked, girlhood rose
in her voice.

If I were blind to her
as I am to you
we would have been

Registered User
10/19/06 5:03 pm
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Artsy Blues

I meet a friend
and she does not praise me.
The unpraised life
is no life at all.

A cold audience
awaits me on the street,
where no one

Monday, October 16, 2006

Another Discovery About Myself

I'm suprised
that I get
small and stingy
when things die.
Mourning is the moral equivalent
of money

Sunday, October 15, 2006

A Small Mourning Poem

Eighteen people
years when she had her stroke,
I found her in the dust of the cellar,
nose to the ground and walking in
aimless small circles.

The inevitable,
I always wanted to know
how it would look.
Nature has a way
of satisfying that

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Small City of Beggars

There are 4400 of us
on You-Tube all
poets. And you can
sift through all of our
earnest faces, some
earnest in their
funniness and others
reaching as far into the
world of the profound
as able.

Tiny faces
front glimpses of
settled worlds,
smile at the great
auditioner with every
frailty, with glows of youth
on cheeks and innocently
assumed importance.

I tried to find
myself on You-Tube just
by scrolling through the
multitudes, the population
of a city one by one
listening to snippets.
I am lost among the mendicants.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Global Warming for the Home Bound

The tall woman always says
we shouldn't be afraid of Winter
just because the day carries daggers.
She says our foamy armor will
space away the pain

and that the Winter is just
a medium life moves through,
between bright
pockets. The stabs only
hurt in passing.

I know why
the tall woman
can say this.
Because she has a car
and a large family.

Two Funny Things I Say to My Wife

I have to force you
against my will
to eat
that eclair
against your will.

That pill is
supposed to be
a pain re
but it's
a pain

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Sunday Morning

We sit down
while still shedding the night
and let our pet music
meander joyfully
about the house while we eat.

There had been a wind in the dark
that took most of the bright yellow
leaves from the trees.
We sit with muffins, sausage, cheese

and chocolate, music curling
around our feet,
at the outside edge
of the first gates
of Winter.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Christmas in New York

Cold that nourishes
tufts of snow
hardening the grass

With our coats
we can survive it
but the nipping pesters me,
rushes me.

If I sit quietly
I let chill cut
the thinning layer
that protects me

from something true.
I want to go home
but won't get there
soon enough.