Sunday, July 26, 2009

Takes Not Much

This whitebread
city street is
pride of our
cleanliness and
freedom from fear.

But I can find
the grit on it,
fallen on the sidewalk
drunk here,
scarred vagrant there,

persons without
the brains to put on
all their clothes.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

An Extended Photo Caption

People get funny looking
when they get old.
It's easy to find
extraordinary faces
on which are enmeshed
gashes of street gas
and poverty lines
along with the marks
of helplessness and laughter.
They bend over and walk funny
sometimes strutting in their pretension
and sometimes marching.
Being alive is a conceit
that appears in their bodies.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Gigi: Portrait from a WebCam Photo


She is laughing, sure,
staring at the blank
magic mirror
with wishes far away.

She doesn't know
what's in there
and she's
wanting it.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

A Compendium of Daydreams

I forget where I
left the car, and forget
where I live.
I run crazy through the streets
while time slides away on greased rails.
Those who miss me
wait.

A party forces my choices.
I grin for some of them
and leave the rest in the cold.
They wait for me, not present to see,
not knowing I am gone.

We emerge from the battle,
my friends
seeping away into the ground.
I am joyous
even while they
say farewell to the grass.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Sunny Morning

The air is
chocolate milk.

Crows act out
conversations.

People on the street
talk like chipmunks,

with crisp quips,
dry and healthy.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Not Bringing Souvenirs

Although she remains
as a small changing wavelet
through which the particles pass,

everything around her
flows away, all the
material nuggets.

I can't bring
tokens of a home
she can't connect again.

Even the molecules of
her lifetime
scatter.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Making it Harder and Easier

They converse about the names of things,
the hard world of the senses
and things they are
supposed to find important
as long as they can listen.

They keep themselves
buried in facts and
dream only about the things
and the value of what
can be taken away from them.

I always thought that death
is easier for those
who live in a world of feeling
and talk in riddles about that
which can't be touched or grabbed.

They are
halfway there already.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Overpopulation of Spirit

When we go to the museum
we think there are only
100 paintings in the world
and a painting is by nature
real and celebrated.

But paintings are
as numerous as raindrops.
They are a tide
crushing the resources
of the world.

They are born
from the creative wombs of billions
mostly never framed and rarely viewed
and when they become things
encased into wood or glass

they pour
like molecules of water
into the narrowing space
of dwindling buildings.
We can't have anymore paintings.

Our houses are full.
We are begged out.
We can find no one to
drag them away.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

The Transformers

We go to the movies
on cheap Tuesday
when the kids are off from school.
It feels like bedlam.

The movie is something new
so rapid my slow eyes
can make very little sense of the action
but it is done lightly

with lame-ass jokes and silly voices.
Me and the kids
chortle like old friends
and I'm not scared of them any more.