Sunday, May 31, 2015

mmcccxcii

A Butterfly’s Effect on Anxiety

Last evening’s network outage
caused a big stir, but under
tonight’s moon, a beautiful
soup sits on a white stove.

The cat purrs like a yogi.
I walked all the way to
Carmel-by-the-Sea
after dancing at Ruby

Skye all night on
Saturday, so I missed
work on Monday.
On Tuesday, I

required the assist-
ance of a cane to get
to work. Me, with
a walking cane!

Otto has a thing for
bike messengers, so
it’s too bad about
the rain. An

external hard drive
shows up between
8 and 9 p.m. It is
male in structure

and smoking hot,
and so I asked
him if he’d like some.

An external hard drive




Friday, May 29, 2015

mmcccxci

Science and the rotation of enjoyment.
                                                 —Basil King

The oddity of fighting with fans. Fan-fighting.

(Just briefly, from the box...) It is
the rainiest March in the record-
books, or something. The network
is confusion in front of me. Perhaps
I forgot my glasses again. Perhaps
I left my glasses on the dancefloor
again. In the taxi cab again. Do I
spend another very large sum on
a pair of glasses? Back in the
day....

Rainy, rainy winter/spring. Otto
and I exchange words via tiny
computers. Via Google without
goggles. He has sent me these
after I presented a comment
about the oddity of fighting
with fans. Having now seen
this phenomenon occur in
several films.

Fold-out fans. The ones when in
hot weather, say, or of a Sunday
morning when the pastor goes 
on for five or ten minutes too
long, open like a V and gets
waved to cool one’s face.
Made of paper. Or any
of various metals or
synthetic materials.

fans

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

mmcccxc

For love we pursue. For entertainment
the movies give us an endless supply
of androgynous characters.

                                    —Basil King

The mummy says Whoops! as
he falls into the hole. Pause

story. I think I’d like to try
polygamy. I walked to the

fancy restaurant.  I am a
person who says fancy

restaurant
.  An unknow-
able amount of pleasure

fills me as I am writing
to let you know that I

walked to the fancy
restaurant in the rain

from a business location
a few blocks away and

several stories above.
It hurt. There were

shocking pains at my
chest and on top of

my heart, also.

There were shocking pains...


Tuesday, May 26, 2015

mmccclxxxix

I’m attempting to avoid
all doctors until after the
White Party. Maybe
that’s just stupid. I

paid a guy $200 and
now my drive is hard.
I’m in pain, asleep
at work. Rainy. Painy.

A few feet from my
desk lies a tube of
peanut butter filling.
I’m telling you this

story during a storm,
standing in a puddle,
with an attack-heart
and a head-bludgeon.

One eye isn’t opening.
Fortunately, I keep a
toothpick in my pocket to
keep the other eye open.

I keep a toothpick in my pocket


Monday, May 25, 2015

mmccclxxxviii

Egghead

Last night lurked briefly
on a scale of one to ten.

Last evening the work-
out cycle seemed regular,

but now it is nothing but
full of the hurt runs and

a limp that causes the
splits. Maybe it was

just something stupid
to keep me from getting

up. To keep me from
walking. I tip my hat

to everything I pass
during today’s

never ending joy.

Egghead


Sunday, May 24, 2015

mmccclxxxvii

Otto is shopping
with his brother
in Chinatown, ex-
changing emails
as I write this.  I
keep forgetting what
everything is called. 
There’s butter and
flower and ball and
pig with mustache. 
But what’s the
purpose of each?
I know that this is
umbrella but what
does it do?  Is it a
thing to grab hold
of so that you rise
toward heaven?  The
elevator is dizzy and
the books that protrude
from that wall of blue
are checking me out.
That wall is spindrift.
The foam of the sea
that is captured and
poured into a por-
celain cup is my
breakfast of
green tea.


Saturday, May 23, 2015

mmccclxxxvi

California Poem: The Sequel

I am no fan of spoiler alerts,
so here’s one from me to you: 
at the end of the season we all
wake up in the shower together
and it slowly dawns us that
this episode is really hot.

Yep.  During the season finale,
it slowly dawns on each of us
while we’re lathering and
shampooing and whatnot
during this racy communal
shower scene that every
single episode this season—
up until we all hop into
the tub together, that is—
has been nothing but
one gigantic buzzkill.
It was all just a night-
mare; it was merely
a dream. 

I really do apologize. 
I just couldn’t help myself. 

Please.  Continue your
binge-watching.  And 
have a wonderful afternoon.


Thursday, May 21, 2015

mmccclxxxv

           Grammar no
not welcome. Hush.

          —Cassie Lewis

Woke up with a pair of
flags and the memory
of a heartbeat. A gor-
geous day, like your
body after three-dollar
martinis. Like your
body of work on top
of the wardrobe. Do
note that I’ve had a
really sore foot and
the sound of the fan
(which I just now
switched to heat)
purrs like Coco 
at my feet.

Life Planning SQUARE


Wednesday, May 20, 2015

mmccclxxxiv

Your Clever Glows Over Everything

Situational and stolen.
For my own benefit.
From a few words in
a book that came in a

lovely brown paper bag.
I almost always throw
the bag, the coverlet,
the whatever-you-call-it,

into the recycle bin (the
one we finally purchased
after living here something
like seven years, right?).

“Just who are you talking
to,” glares Coco the Loco,
who’s wrapped into a
skeptical curl—all foetal-

feline alert and everything.
And should I even begin to
answer? I do, in one long
breath, thinking about how

we (us, some bodies) nearly
lost you (you!) to the clover
a couple of months and a
year ago. But you arrived

home like nothing had been
overcome, not even a tiny
hurdle, a C-, so ... alive.
Your clever was never

as apparent as it should
have been. Whereas,
me, I always believed 
that I was the clever one.

I always believed that I was the clever one.


Tuesday, May 19, 2015

mmccclxxxiii

The Cross

“Which one?”
heard the driver
of a very lengthy
limousine—

from somewhere
within the depths
of the enlarged
automobile.

There are 
so many.

The Cross




Monday, May 18, 2015

mmccclxxxii

Now undo this habit.
         —Rob Halpern

“Must we always be
so undone?” mused
the nun to the other
nuns as they perched
at the precipice of 
a great abyss.

San Francisco




Wednesday, May 13, 2015

mmccclxxxi

I feel so missing 
in action (inaction)
today. Am I still a
part of the franchise?
Hang on... If I

don’t lose you once
or twice then I’m
definitely not doing
my job. Once he
thinks he might
actually mean that,

the 13th Chapter of
the Geminian Order
of the Sentient is
secretly called to order.

the 13th Chapter of the Geminian Order of the Sentient






Tuesday, May 12, 2015

mmccclxxx

Our ‘Separate Vacations’ Were Such [Ad]Ventures!

Having everything
under control.

Talk about not
knowing me.

Naruto, Naruto
Naruto (episode

100 now). I’m
feeling gutty,

not my usual
temperature,

although it
could be.

I was think-
ing about

things (my-
self). Things I

hadn’t thought
in years or never.

“There always
seems to be

so much to
pack,” I think

as I walk 
out the door.

notice of public hearing


Monday, May 11, 2015

mmccclxxix

Casual Dining Island

Here on The Island of Casual Dining
       we eat. Not just the headaches 
from yesteryear.  Only more robust.

Casual Dining Island




Sunday, May 10, 2015

mmccclxxviii

A Moussed Mouse

Negative empathy for
the disciplinarian.

I’d like to trouble you
with the following urgent

message: your box is
gorgeous! I lurked

briefly over emails
about a foot fetish –

some left foot! Closer
to home I’m in serious

need of a workout –
so hard it causes a

limp. Walking on
knuckles isn’t so

stupid when you
really want to avoid

the podiatrist, avoid
insane, avoid internal

bleeding. The drive
back is never ending,

even though I paid 
the guy over $200.

The drive back is never ending


Thursday, May 07, 2015

mmccclxxvii

Give a Zebra a Canary...

It’s true,
I’m not that
cunning, Sire.

Time for my
punishment?
Your desire?

Please watch
me hard
whilst I expire.

Give a Zebra a Canary...




Wednesday, May 06, 2015

mmccclxxvi

My life
has not
been in
order.
See,
here it
is, fall-
ing out
of itself
all at once.

PUBLIC




Monday, May 04, 2015

mmccclxxv

So Much From Which To Choose

...up with which I shall not put!

So I am learning to hate.  It is

so easy in theory or even on paper.

For example: “I despise them all!

Every last one of them!”


            [I close my eyes,

            repeat verbally, but
    
            just above a whisper

            and with teeth con-

            sistently clenched:

            “HATE!”    “HATE!”

            and then I open my eyes.]

                      
                      VoilĂ .


Saturday, May 02, 2015

mmccclxxiv

A Turn for the Worse

I love to drive. This
I remember. But sea-
sickness, as they say,
is seasickness. I don’t

get carsick, nor even
vertigo anymore.  Rare-
ly. Rarely just get into 
an automobile and

drive. Before GPS
I traversed the US,
these entire United
States. Or those con-

tiguous. Many of them
numerously. Well.
Aiming more for
contemplative, I

take off my smudged
glasses to let the river
flow (as they say).
I’m not granite, nor

relatively immortal,
but I do wonder if I
would be a popular
tourist attraction

had I been a canyon.
Instead of a human.
The vast airy beauty
of sleep is often

interrupted by night-
mares. Like this
morning’s fire
that destroyed

everything
that was ours.
It all went so
quickly, like

the meat half of a
split-order pizza
when you’re ex-
tremely hungry.

a turn for the worse


Friday, May 01, 2015

mmccclxxiii

I Don’t Remember

Partial fire hazard.
François, 475-4538.
The lights with the
electric stove problem.

That this goes here.
The long red burn
that encircles my
left leg mid-calf.

Erasing landscape
for livestock.  Ex-
change rates.  Ex-
changing gifts.  Gift

giving.  Thanksgiving.
I’m horrible with the
names of the people I
love the most.  I must

love the most.  I’m
not sure.  I thought
that I had arrived to
congratulate you on

something wonderful.
I have no idea what it
was.  Or if this is true.
Which makes me so

angry.  Like being
branded by fire, a
mere infant, I’m
emblazoned by

pure and visceral
anger unswervingly
aimed at you.  This
maybe went on

forever.  But I do
not remember.