Monday, March 20, 2017


Cover Letter

I wad it up,
unawed by it
It's amazing how
useless every
thing becomes.
I suppose most
things were al
ways useless.
There is a glint
of giddy calm
in my heart.
Yes, mine
belongs to
me (this
has to be
the new
me, app
ever so
No more
The phone
is gasping
its last
as if it
this is likely
worse than
losing a liv
ing member
of the family
if not a long
term pet.
The drama.
Oh.  I am
to get an
notice to
day if not


Automatic Arithmetic

This laundry facility
in my apartment
building will
now close daily
at 10:00 pm
and reopen daily
at 9:00 am.  (Find
your honesty.  Be
a good person.)
I wrote
a poem
in 4th
It was
and my
5th grade
teacher, per-
haps even un-
beknownst to me
entered it into some
sort of scholastic state-
wide contest.  I don’t know
if I have a copy of the poem
presently, but I remember many
of its lines (the first two of which
were “Math is hard, very hard/
Addition, subtraction, division.”)
which, for me, is pretty unusual (to
remember a line from anything, that is
and it rhymed:  ABAB, ABAB; the word
hard was paired with guard, division with
supervision, etc.).  When I was in 7th grade
I learned that the poem had won, that it had
been published in the winning anthology.  I
thought it was cool, but I had pretty much
moved on from poetry by then.  All of my
science and math teachers were also coaches
(football, basketball, gymnastics, etc.) when
I was in 7th grade.  Mainly coaches or Primarily
coaches are two phrases which immediately come
to mind.  We students even addressed them as “Coach
[so and so]”.  When I was in 7th grade, my science teacher,
the high school football coach, turned beet red with anger
(at something I cannot remember) and threw an entire desk
(complete with the chair, like the desks in pretty much
any classroom of that particular era) out the window
and onto the grass that grew next
to the building that housed the high
school which I attended.

Saturday, March 18, 2017


         The exotic collection of dumplings recipes.
                                            —Amazon via Facebook

It’s abrupt and absurd
the way I try to quickly
introduce myself to people

whom I don’t know at the
moment yet want to know
in the future.  Perhaps it’s

intoxicating on some level
to the stranger; often,
certainly, it is an exit

interview.  I don’t
want to remain like
this: almost gone.

The tarred rooftops
work like magnets
to my exhausted

eyeballs, soak
in the warm
winter sun.

Friday, March 17, 2017


Vague Notes to an Ungathered (& Vague) Public

vague notes sent away to an even more vague and perhaps mythological or fantastical "public circle" (i.e., the people who read any of what i write (here -- or anywhere) as it relates to a 'reality' - or as a timestamp or a milepost pinned into this 'reality' and use it for some 'perspective' both in present & for and from future (and hence perspectives past as they pertained and pertain in retrospect to a present and possible locate:

perception vs. perception
perception vs. 'reality'
'reality' vs. 'reality'

these matches can run individually, on a 2-3 person acquaintances or close friendship or more profound (to whom among the core?) relationship of some kind. does smaller scale (for me) loom so much larger in lifetimes of relative peace? i've known no hardship. so i make mountains out of molehills. molehills are my mountains. there is a certain control.

compare and contrast to larger scale.

and to reactions to various of these fights (versuses).

fight vs. flight

to run away (escaping reality and 'reality) or to confront (in hopes).

and especially as this pertains to "survival of the fittest (darwinian, real), vs. psychological, per se (start, for example, with freud's continued prevalence, the sexism etcetism inherent; the seeming ridiculousness and yet assimilation into modern culture which makes it 'reality'?

'reality' and 'perceptions' about both small and large group occurrences (a few friends, a country, the world, how we make it all palatable somehow, etc.)...

then: reality. then, why poetry? duh. would be a relieving way to end this journey of thought before starting again. and again. until you never get it right.