mmxcix

The Goddess Tarot app says it’s a 6 swords day.
                                           —Dodie Bellamy

What time is it there at 4pm Monday here?
Did people used to get permission for this
sort of thing?

Sorry about the depressions, the lease dates,
the spreadsheet of expenses, the draft of a
note to the electric plumber, the draft of a note....

mmxcviii

Oh My Lover, My Tiny Robot Companion, The Spoon
in the Palm of My Half-Slept Hand, I Thank You

Directly upon rolling over, groggy with sleep,
to find your middle-of-the-night query last night,
I formed a quick, vivid, and death-defyingly succinct
response in answer to the query that was not-so-subtly
ensconced within your rollicking, charming, hilarious, and
transcendently poignant txt msg.

My response not only elucidated reverently (and,
somewhat irreverently), poignantly, and empath-
etically, but was most striking (coming, as it were,
from me; and particularly in its occurrence, as it were
juxtaposed within a pair of brackets between
fits and starts of dreamy sleep and abrasive
insomnia) for its (to reiterate, quite uncharacter-
istic, even in my most sober and focused moments)
clarity; its spot-on use of word-to-actuality;
each verb, each modifier, &c, a veritable
mirror held to reality; even at its most
flowery, words or two which might
initially be assumed frill, were but
subtle emphases incorporated
only to drive home that actuality:
what had, in truth, best as it can be
derived at and then articulated,
in retrospect at least, what has been
and what is. In a nutshell, it was a
drawn-precisely-to-scale map of What Was Is;
it was an unbiased primer on What Is Was.
                                                                 Well,
things being as they are, and most regrettably,
following the dreamscapes that were inter-
spersed with insomnia, the transition of body
from horizontal to vertical, that slow awakening
that included coffee and a modicum of meditation—
basically, after everything that subsequently took me
from middle-of-the-night toward and into what is:
THE NOW, our dear, dear “Late Morning”—
that beautiful response to your lovely question,
my answer that once seemed forged so indelibly,
as into a marble headstone, has wholly,
has most irrevocably
                                                         vanished.

mmxcvii

Cheating easier in the afternoon
                      —TIME/CNN headline

I’m in love with the stick of dynamite
that the kid drew. The kid that kept
his eyes open most of the night trying
to dislocate his curfew.

There’s a pair of police officers out back
and a big bag of dough in the middle of
the room that’s just about ready to fold.

mmxcvi

In fairyland, all violets are simultaneous.
                          —Mei-mei Berssenbrugge

You may not realize it,
but I stay pretty busy,
too.  Sleep is an act of
writing, for example.

Although writing isn’t
the least bit tedious,
is it work?  Let’s say
for a moment that I’m

joking; that it’s a joke.
Ha ha.  Let’s go out and
take pictures of all of
everything.  At least

within walking distance.
Though I have only re-
cently fallen in love with
sardines, I have always

been very smitten by
fish of all kinds.  Plus,
I’m a big fan of Carol
Burnett.

mmxcv

You always
roll up your
sleeves as if
you are work
ing. I suppose
you are work
ing most of the
time. Why don’t
you ever wear
short sleeves?

mmxciv

Pustules Must Burst

Isn’t this Friday? So
don’t I get thousands
and thousands of doll
ars from you to pay
the bills? I sure keep
thinking so, with the
heater blowing in my
face and the shades
going up and down
depending on the
fog and the sun.

mmxciii

Kiss My Dossier

     The master poet trembled.
                     —Rachel Blau DuPlessis


     Two barrettes and a scrunchy were at issue...
                                          —Rachel Blau DuPlessis

mmxcii

is this the premise (the promise) (the prefix)
                                    —Rachel Blau DuPlessis

I will
or I will
not spring
from a
new leaf
like a wingéd
or maybe wing
less cherub

like a

heralding
darkness
with the
beholden
wielding
(behold!)
a dry sword
of the earth
of the aether
about the
earth

mmxci

Writhing Is Impossible.

“Check your back. It’s like
the roots of your wings
are setting. See where
they are bruising the
/
bottom of your gut?”

mmxc

Off the Coast of the iPod Nation

     The year may not remember
     the hurt, but the hurt does...
                               —John Ashbery

I’ll say to you this: “Don’t ever
forget a word I’ve ever said to
you!” I’m afraid that if you did
we’d both lose it.

mmlxxxix

Filler

Did you hear what the party police said?
Ridiculous, I know. Right?

That’s why I always recommend Miami.
Not only is it the perfect solution.
But, hello, Pitbull (yeah, I’m
sorry he looks like he’s taking
a piss onto the audience
right now, but, hello, Pitbull!)!!

And Miami! It’s so nice that others
try to become you or me (not likely),
but, you know. That’s why I’m listening
to Ricky Ricardo: the remixes as we speak.

I do think this will be alright. I mean,
it’ll turn out okay. Don’t you?

But, like, I have less than two hours
before I’m supposed to cocktail in my
favorite patio office (this will include
lots of entertainment, as always),
so, you know, is it okay if I drink you in
with my eyeballs for just a few more
seconds. Feel free to take off anytime.

Just like my eyeballs always do.

mmlxxxviii

There’s exceptions to the honesty policy
         —spoken by Lynn during a very good Bob’s Burgers episode

I’m not sure why I’d give that five stars
but I just did.  Hello from Fantastic Mood,
I am amazing.  Are you?

And so the beat goes on.  I especially love
when the piles of trash get distributed
in the garbage bins (from my apartment
to yours, happy regards!!).

Also, this song!  I’m always up for great
beats.  Yay hooray for a proper boogie.

(Even though that sounds gross, you can
rest assured.)  By the way,

I have a lot of swag upon which
names of places I used to work
are emblazoned.  Like these
fantastic coffee mugs

and this amazing new
dance music.  Hi.  Let’s
fill this boat with an
alarming number
of people [insert
instructions
and photography].

Did you come here to play?
If so, let me turn around and
try to show you exactly
where it hurts.

mmlxxxvii

Dear Or Equivalent,

I can do this. It’s now.
I’m keeping now on
track with can. Gad!

Gad! Things are topsy-
turvy between us, to be
sure. But clearly the

Age of Reason has
come and gone.
Night and day,

just to reiterate.
Hello from the
Embankment.

I enclose a
photograph
of this moment

in hopes it affords
the opportunity for
either of us to stand

firm in our resolve.
Every doctor I’ve
ever visited has

written for me
a prescription.
I could leave it

at that, laughter
being the best
medicine and all.

mmlxxxvi

How Do You Like My Tom Tones?

That one smelled like tragedy.
“WOLF!” he cried, apparently
for no reason at all.

When pressed (by the press)
he conceded that his method
of enjambment was intended

as a metaphor for sunburn;
a farmer’s tan, to be more
specific. And thence-

forward, specific
was not an option.

mmlxxxv

Summer Love

I’ll take “Lives in San Francisco”
for one hundred dollars, Alex.

Which is also the title of my
only top ten single.

I have no room in my life for
applications that are meant to

EXPAND YOUR BRAIN.  I
found this out the hard way,

though.  I woke up at four
in the morning singing

“Luck Be a Lady” and
for weeks I keep mumbling

the title to Ron’s book.
“Logicalogics.”  “Logicalogics.”

In actuality it’s impossible
to mumble it. What is

mumbling if it doesn’t
involve the letter “M” –

no, really, what is mumbling?

mmlxxxiv

Sad Face

Are you taking a break from
reality? I sat down here
to make a sad face
for just a little while.

mmlxxxiii

And What About Tragedy?

What about tragedy?

mmlxxxii

You’re The Reason God Made Marijuana

To avoid business conflict. To avoid
conflict. To avoid inflict pain conflict.
&c.

What I have come to learn? We do need
a new coffee table. Is it okay to put this
picture of you up in my Facebook? Okay,
how about this one? Okay.

I don’t really like the stuff, to be honest.
I just drink socially. Funny comments
that inflict pain in order to avoid conflict.

mmlxxxi

I Am But A Wobbly Pillar
or
How to Avoid Rock Bottom
by Watching 10 Friends
Do It For You

That is, if you have that many.
What makes a snowball
a snowball?

How to Write Poems Without Titles
plus
How to Avoid Giving Multiple Titles
to Each & Every Poem You Write

Thrown in for free. While supplies last.

There’s a Reason God Made Marijuana.

mmlxxx

Enter Kevin Bacon

I’m trying to build a scale
Reality <--> Surreality<--> Just Plain Not Reality
I dunno

the tiger balm is helping, though
--
we go to this place in Chinatown

like a habit
so I shoot him a message
“r u coming up or not?”

my toenail
the tiny toe (right side)
split all the way down the middle to the cuticle

(maybe the word cuticle
is expressly
for the ones on your fingers?)

I’ve always waited for this moment
not so much looking forward to it
but wondering what it would be like

mmlxxix

“Excuse me, but are you from the House of Air?”

I’m just wondering. Because I am
going to make myself known here.
And here. And here.

I remember football coaches
even though I never met Joe.
Somehow I am thinking of both

because of Union Square. For
some reason, I mean. A noise
coming from. And someone’s

“CAN’T MOVE!” – gigantic
but distant, and particularly
male. Not only do I allow myself

the butt. To be the. But do I actually
encourage it? God! Or gad! Whatever....
Plush looks like it might be fun

(erotic). But the film I’m
most looking forward to
at the moment is Ass Backwards.