Thursday, July 28, 2011

Fresh Wednesday Bread

As if I were a child
as if,

I look up into
ageless bedtime story eyes.

The bagel baker
ritually chants, "May you

be granted your last bites
badekt in cream cheese."

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Democratic Markets

Stands at the palace gate
clenched in the fist
pants short
feet ready to stamp

but it won't let him go.
Ready to surrender,
suicide even if he
doesn't get the soothing statement.

All is silent though.
History nearly over,
the future drizzles away
and the enemy persists.

There is no
fame for me,
born mediocre and
mediocre I remain.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Poetry

We are so
helplessly absurd.
If we find a morsal of success
it doesn't come with any real smiles
and probably represents
a corruption or pretense.

So we needn't try
to say anything sincere
or to publically
encounter ourselves.
Nobody will receive us.
Nobody reads
and only a few
unwillingly listen.

When they opine honestly
it's always with malice.
If there is charity
it is not in their hearts.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Ultimate Lumps II

Clean the
slate of me
fresh greens
to grow on top
bright eyes
unrespectful
swinging open doors.

Neat packages
eighty units
wrapped with costumed passages
earthy and bright
decorated
quanta
plopping through time.

If you imagine
time as space
you will understand
life afloat,
the eroded edges
particulating,
drifting away.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Weak and Silent

If this were clearer
it would be embarrassing like a dream.

The failure
was weak and silent.

I just walked through the scene
among the un-entitled

while voices
sang obvious and

well-known praises.
In private I know

I should never
have expected more

on a very large
and quiet planet.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Ultimate Lumps

Neat packages
eighty units
wrapped with costumed passages
earthy and bright
decorated
quanta
plopping through time.

Clean the
slate of me
fresh greens
to grow on top
bright eyes
unrespectful
swinging open doors.

Friday, July 01, 2011

The Meaning of a Dream

When I wandered
from paper to flesh
I revealed the depth
of my fraud.

I can pretend and
imagine with paper
but when I touch
human lives

all the pretensions
I carry cut
into the private story
of who I am.

If you are born into theory
never touch fact.