Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Seeing the Earth before Exit

I wore the jacket padded
armor to the office.

The hands that
touched my shoulder

were just dead weight.
Tailored decoration

hid my neck
so there was little

visible flesh.
Stacked fluid instants like

a football game went
from offense to defense,

victory to loss,
covered as possible.


We paid
for ways to spend our minutes.

We exchanged
past units for dollops

of the future,
licking anticipation

from our lips.
Manipulated sound

or flavors especially formed, or
carefully timed open gates.

Thursday, November 24, 2011


I am tired
of worrying whose
mood is bad
in the evening.
I just want to find
bits of pleasure.

I am tired of
civilization, let the place
fester in the
morning. The movement
around me makes me
want to hide.

Blast the others
and their selves.
I am tired of
making room.
And I love the outrage,
feeling how much
I earned it.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Victory of a Mature Man

Well Madam,
I have purged all those
pretensions. I have
neatly simplified.
No longer do
what I called art,
laughable recording
like a cave man.

Especially with the vain
elements, burnt away,
purely I live, immersed
in what I see and feel
learning how short life is
and how few will
briefly remember.

Sunday, November 13, 2011


What do I have
to worry about
in an era of peace?
Just death
and arrangements.

As usual I open my eyes
at four am for my customary
waking dream compulsion.
In foresight, in
frantic planning.

In an era of peace, another mind
worries. I am
absent and someone
disposes of me, whole
or pieces.

Thursday, November 03, 2011


Tonight acts and
pauses like a theatrical.
The curtain rises
thrice during intermissions
and falls as the drama ensues.

Act 1.
Murk and introduction.
I stir.

Act 2.
In medias res
with my girlfriend
flying in my balloon designed to make my
enemies jealous. They
reach up to grab me
as I throttle away.
My eyes open.

Act 3.
Sleep and wakefulness
mix. I count
and worry.