mdcclxxvi

Dear Sailor,

Thus ends the posturing, which was very

fashionable.  But after the posturing comes

(can come) the good stuff.  If in hypotheticals,

no posturing.  Wait.  A hypothetical is not at all

(necessarily) an ideal (brain mis-meming). 

Oh, the good stuff.  The good stuff is yummy

and fresh, though I’m not the biggest strawberry

fan (time will tell, time will tell).  Nico is out

with a few clouds.  It is blue, fluffy, and vibrates,

so his first reaction when he picked it up was

to think of me.  His second reaction was

to purchase it.  Thank you so much!

                                       Warm hearts,
                                       Blue, Fluffy & Vibrating

mdcclxxv

Ships ships ships...by lethal manning

Ships...by lethal ships...manning ships

                                    —Brandon Brown

The duration of a stanza in proportion to

sugared and whipped cream (to go with

strawberries).  Taken out of context,

sexting is so hot.  Sexted tercets better

than sugared strawberries full of

whipped cream?  What a jester

(a word which often brings to mind

Chester the Molester, which brings

to mind Hustler anecdotes I needn’t

bring up or point out)!  Is it a myth

that the stack of magazines originally

belonged to my father?  Well, memory.

But he would have purposefully planted

them [exact location comes up blank

upon scan and rescan, but they did reside

in an obvious “hidden” location in the

bathroom closet during much of the

1980s.] ... to be discovered—and

treasured—thus.  This from a few

funny lines about nautical vessels.

Which was preceded by a few

drenched breasts.  Which was

preceded by about 7:30am,

as I momentarily recall.

mdcclxxiv

See how comfortable I was with going back and
increasing its volume by 100%? It became something
way different, but yet two sides of the very same coin.

So my idea for the photography shoot is to take pictures.
Then we can make the book all D.I.Y., interspersing the
pictures amongst the text, pasting things on actual page-

size leafs and then scanning them or taking pictures of
them (each completed page-sized leaf) and then use those
“electronic files” to make the book. Then we’ll have an

e-book that’s “online” and won’t get lost in space.

mdcclxxiii

I don’t mind the red herring.  Or the non sequiturs.

It just sounded nice.  It’s not about anything.  But

doesn’t it make you think?  Or is it too distracting?

In reality, I had a dream I made a dressing for a

mesclun salad (with fresh tomatoes) that was taken

out of context.  Chicken thigh meat, oyster mushrooms.

mdcclxxii

Claustrophobe or Clusterfuck

Who taught you to talk so nasty? comes out all

bubbles.  I’m struggling to bring myself to the

surface.  If it were a dream.  But it’s just a

thought I get while reading a poem by Philip

Jenks.  I’m struggling to remember (word from

word) what the lips in my brain are parsing.

Yeah, I’m sure this is no good (bubbles) (lips

parsing – long pause – lips parsing) but it’s

okay I’m listening to the new wind chimes.

[Are there new wind chimes?]  How pleasant.

Or how pleasant on a morning such as this.

How pleasant this morning, the new wind

chimes!  Or are they crystal wine glasses

filled with varying amounts of water.  We’ve

only three of them left (I’ve broken three of

them – separate events – since October.)

Who’s playing a three-noted chime

with wine glasses filled with

varying amounts of water?

mdcclxxi

It Rained In Hell

Thanks to you, ALL THE

PLANTS DIEDQ!!!!!

mdcclxx

She slung the noodles around her neck.

                                       —Lindsey Boldt

Slowly, I learn how to waste a day.  I write a

very long note (after a trail of angry notes).  I

use Roman numerals, though.  It rained last

night, thank you!, etc.  (does this mean I’m

lazy?  Down Pine Street through the Ferry

Building before heading back to Boston

I purchase a chicken, some fresh vegetables,

and 175 pills.  Slowly, I ease into the trap

and find that easing neither in nor out

relinquishes the monotony.  I label each

headache (there are now five).  Otto cooks

and we have a delicious dinner on Wednesday

morning.  The best ever, I’d say.  I peel the

label off of one headache and paste it onto

another.  I forgot to mention that the vegetables

were asparagus, sugar snap peas, and oyster

mushrooms (which actually become red

meat when sautéed in organic butter).

mdcclxix

Sunday dimsum with Carolyn floating like

zippies over Chinatown and City Lights

with chitchat all the way home to a nap

before Kim and Hiro arrive.   Now I’m at

the public library!  It rained last night and

Otto and I had our umbrellas for the walk

to work this morning.  Passing the old man

who does tai chi every morning in St. Mary’s

Square and our neighbor the security guard

who works graveyard shift somewhere

downtown and then digs through garbage

during the day (by now I’ve written a

hundred and seventy five of these, but my

rate of production will grow exponentially).

mdcclxviii

You go ahead on to the gym.  I’ll just

be here drinking champagne.  Thus the

gauntlet was thrown, and all productivity

went to hell.  Was in hell?  Another sip

and the rain stopped, but he couldn’t get

it up.  He could neither get up nor walk

out the door and into (onto) the shadows

of his own residence (residue).  Better

players than this have tempted and

twirled their ways into better conscious-

ness than this (he surmised).  Conscious-

nessess?  Open the door to another plane-

t (he said, tongue-in-cheek).  A planet

salted with androids, neither flesh nor

blood.  And each a walking existence? 

Raise your hand to the one who’d

put out for nothing better than this

mutt just walked out of a dirty hole.

mdcclxvii

Excerpts from what I was trying to say.

     The fear

     that all this

     will end.

     The fear

     that it won’t.

                                 —Rae Armantrout

My brain was really fuzzy misreading Brandon’s ripples

for nipples – as in how lovely are the pond’s nipples –

and sifting thru black and whites on a rainy day.  Some

say rain’s exasperating but I say it just depends on which

day.  It turns out my eyes are just too fast for the page –

the next few words are my beloved’s nipples.  Go to

sleep, go to sleep....

mdcclxvi

I thought you thought I just Skyped

puking.  But with whom? all tongue-

in-cheek.  I’m waiting by the door

for the doorbell.  Ripping everything

open.  Just purchased an aisle of items

at Walgreen’s and now I’m ripping

everything open in the hallway.  I did

being able to be a kid again without

thinking too much about it.  And

maybe it wasn’t even relevant.  If so,

then what?  Time to drink a glass of

water.  Time to drink the water in

a glass half full, beat my chest like

anthropomorphism and go to bed.

mdcclxv

No Body for the Hottie

I can’t take care of your digestive needs.

Maybe that’s not my purpose for your life.

Cuz anyway I come from the fountain of

mouthing off.  It’s a new lunar year and it’s a

leap year and I dunno.  I messed up and ordered

the Joplin empanada or pupusa, but it was actually

very delicious.  I am a cloud that is reaching out &

grabbing as much as I can.  But you think it’s some

sort of road in the dessert (that cars can easily veer                          

off of; or maybe not a car but two motorcyclists....)

“Is there a problem?” I ask him.  His response is

“Can you believe it’s not butter?”  This tongue

(as in language?) is the entire story of my life.

mdcclxiv

Bear With Me

Take care of your heart,

that fluidic vehicle.  I was

trying to make a roll of

quarters appear out of

nowhere. I’m only kid-

ding,  I was being a

filet mignon.

mdcclxiii

Did you know that 2:57 is

twelve minutes to 5:30 (a.m.

or p.m.) in this particular

dimension?  I don’t really

remember working three

hours or doing laundry

for Kids in the Hall.  It

pays for the t-shirt with

dishes, a covert move

(seedy transaction) on

the mezzanine in the

days when we would

watch a bit of DVD

and then show up

dancing the night

away.  Once upon

a weekend we’d

even be home in

time for chitchat

with visitors from

out of town.  Arise

half-tapped (giddy

in a mimosa way)

to escort them up

and down Powell

for dim sum.  Now-

adays it’s always

time to go—with-

out even an ounce

of wherewithal (an

umbrella, say?)...

or so it goes today

with good old

so and so).

mdcclxii

Feline Valentine

Watching Coco the Cat lick the dust

off the living room mini-blinds.  And

wondering why (me; not necessarily

the cat).  Gary and Larry turn thirty-

six tomorrow.  I drive folks crazy

for a living.  The ambulance was

full or it cannot be helped (I don’t

remember Friday night).  I’ve begun

stacking books just so; a conscious

effort at perfect portraiture.  And

all I preach is candid shots, never

pose, never pose....   If you lust,

perhaps make it known.  As for

myself,  I am a totally ineffective

communicator reading Money

Shot in an effort at redemption.

mdcclxi

I had a baby girl.

My dream that

lasted five weeks.

She had three

parents; I was

one of three.

When I could

reach her, what

fluff!  Afraid

to drop her.

Would she

fall on her

head or

float into

the stars

like a helium

balloon?  I

drove my

station wagon

with no idea.

I watch her

from a distance

as the weeks

pass.  Several

misadventures

but so real (

laundry, dishes

).  What is value

but true feelings

more trouble than

they are worth?

I hold out my

hands for my

little girl

who becomes

Angela’s dog

Riley, a white

joyous blur of

hopping and

scampering to

and fro (her nails

on the floor a

perfect tempo).

I look around

for the other

two parents,

wonder where

they went and

who they are.

mdcclx

Better today.  And it’s

Tuesday (famous for

the Tuesday After).

Chatting at the bistro

with all the boys.

How I performed on

Saturday night under

that kind of pressure.

Making it known I

can’t stand deception

especially when for

my own good (or

vice versa).  Ex-

pressing Saturday

night under that

creepy elm.  Wait-

ing for the trees to

come clean.  One

tree frankly crushes

but it can’t be helped.

It has a good partner

and makes it known.

What does it mean

to care very much

about no answer.

Do I feel I have

good help or do

feelings become

more adventurous

than the trouble

of loved ones (or

vice versa).  Hello?

I don’t remember.

mdcclix

Do Not Share

The public is enough for a while.  Did time

all fated weekend.  Which was fun until he

taps me on the shoulder to come with him.

We’re going to his car so I can have some-

thing.  My request.  He asks if I want any

therapy and I say yes (nobody witnessed).

Bang on window.  Bang on lap.  Assume

calm.  Drive (an hour?  less?  more?).  A

story that pokes as it fools.  Then watches

while we are enlightened.  Much discussion

about my insistence.  I’m tired of new dev-

elopments and sleepiness. Get back home to

discuss no results from my side hurting and

being open to being slapped is after a while

(not the knuckle-headed assumption) sapped.

mdcclviii

Notes to Poems

I need a toothpick.

Maybe tonight.

mdcclvii

Midsummer night.  Bloated stars wobble like

canceled sitcoms through the year-round blossoms.

I feel like I’ve been electrocuted by a plateful of

dessert.  Gesturing about wanting sexual adventure.

Questions coherently asking me what happened.

Telling me about how I’m no longer visible

in future’s collision, stalling right before impact.

A psychiatrist to the stars, I’m finally getting into

it.  You have a messed up heart makes me feel

subtle.  Busy this morning with names of girlies.

Off-work hours my side is worsening.  I believe

honesty is the hot section but will know more on

Friday.  And keep the channel open is not a great

name for a crowded brothel.  They’ve shut me

into a scanner to get scanned.  Or is it the other

way around?  Bomb simple wants into week

until weekend.  Fortune rending kitchens in

the out of doors at four-thirty in the morning.

mdcclvi

The new one landed with a smooth splash

about a minute ago.  Little seeds falling from

trees that say FOREVER at thirty degree angles.

Our tree; our first vacation.  Later, sketching

after Starbucks, presently dancing, last night.

And then a mellow day.  The weekend ducks

in like airplane noise.  Or helicopters lifting

pink stuff from the sidewalks and placing

it on top of me.  I’m loud, I’m in the Starlight

Room walking all the way over here.  Feeling

strange alert.  And cute and can’t really sleep.

Painting a picture of a lightbulb for shopping.

He suggested the Safeway on Church Street.

Red fish in a pond on top of one of the dirty

nips.  So much more this weekend.  And

often.  I think of way over there, placing

thinking on top of the Union Square starlight.

mdcclv

We arrived frazzled and then we

cleaned up.  Pretty fantastic from

a small distance (koi fish nearby),

helping with the move from Oak-

land to Vallejo.  He was smoking

and sometimes I got a little back

and forth from his creeping flirts.

Suggesting I couldn’t handle him.

Wait, I’ve been preparing for this

all day, side by side, listening to

the traffic.  I walked all the way

over here (he suggests or hints). 

Now there are two mallards.  In

the distance is Lincoln Drive,

I guess.  And Russian River.

mdccliv

     minivan, Ativan, moon in my hands:

                                             —Joseph Lease

The running water is always nice.  On

lesser days there is sleeping and sleeping

and further dreamlessness.  Birthday

hands (shaking drowsiness) in leagues.

I can see the occasional passerby.  Lots

of grey squirrels Otto keeps calling

Icarus (each squirrel).  Mostly peace-

ful, cloudy, quiet, nice.  Broke like

never before (not sunny today like

yesterday, but not as windy).  So

soothing and beautiful.  On location

in Shakespeare Garden: ferns.  Walk

the small distance, neck glistening

like water off a duck’s back.

mdccliii

Bedroom Companion

We brought our words with us,

stepping into the room with lots

of noise, a premonition of things

to come.

His toothpaste tasted like candy

canes (he let me use his brush).

We had broken into the same

party craving a few minutes of

distance.  Skipping the wine,

we both headed directly to

the cheese.  It was a pretty

fantastic plate.  Thus began

our opening up, our spilling

out of a lot of chilly memoir.

This was my new project.  A

flurry of excitement, an

opening.  Eating in silence,

slowly chewing each fork-

stabbed chunk, wincing.

The memory blows as it

goes.  Is gone, blown.

I forgot which word

stumbled upon which.

Indeed, I forgot

each word, all of the

words.  The noisy room

with no footprints.