"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

Archive for the month “May, 2013”



Doors closing   and opening

New Age prophets say: when

one door closes  another opens


And on the otherside  there will be

sunshine & tulips   in your        favourite colour

Can this be true?


Others say:  big things  are in store

But I don’t know if I have the stomach

to explore   a new metier    Why should I?

This one has served me  well


And what is this fascination with   re-invention?


I may choose to un-become   to eat

breathe   and sleep    If the tree falls

who cares if it is heard?  It will   decompose


When you see a tree  you never ask       what it means

So please do not foist upon me   your

need to hear  trees fall    Basho wouldn’t



The temple bell stops –

but the sound keeps coming

out of the flowers


Spring  2013    Songanddancegirl     Doors     Basho





2  women beside me   talk  art  movies

books & jeans      (they fit like fucking sausages)

Their banter is manic   performing for the plebes

Louder still   with shrill laughter


While the park at our feet is emerald   wet   fragrant          ! QUIET PLEASE

How long do you think this will last?  The solstice is

near past   and that giant yellow moon will soon  appear


Now they talk about dead acquaintances  whose ailments

were  poo-pooed     I either need a tranquilizer  or an Uzi

One will obliterate   the need for    the other     He’s husky  not fat   Is Michael husky?


I pass into a netherworld now  where neither lush park

nor    yellow moon can reach me    and winter cannot

arrive  too soon    Frozen empty streets   de-nuded of

smart repartee     on languid afternoons



*(note to self:  stop saying –  fucking    bullshit      and baby) 


Spring 3013



Her name was Lemon  and she was

a giantess   at least as big as her piano

With a name like that  why on earth

would  she  call  me    sourpuss?  


Later     much later   I learned this was

a   projection    For underneath mounds

of  sunny-funny  kindergarten teacher  lay

a cruel and sour  dictator


While I was     dignified    quiet    and 5


She said if I’d only smile  (a lot)  she would

call me  smiley    I just wasn’t sure that I could

So   I traded my Elmer toy  for absolution         (he now sat on her piano)


Miss Lemon sang with an open mouth

a huge   round   orifice   where I feared

Elmer   and perhaps a few of us might       disappear


I had no choice but to swipe him back

and smile a cheshire grin    Lemon  O Lemon

you taught me well     to fear pianos    & hate school


But later   much later  when my 5 yr. old client

complained: The teacher treats me like a donkey

I accepted her disdain   and taught her that :


Power tends to corrupt  and absolute power    corrupts absolutely*   


But mostly I taught her that  no donkey

was she     and nor would she   ever be



*Lord Acton


Spring  2013



25 yr. old Drummer Rigby is famous

this week    His 2 yr. old son Jack is      well known

On a street in Woolwich   he was

fatally stabbed  by a man wielding a

large butcher knife    His hand covered in

Lee Rigby’s red blood   The headline

posed the question:  But is it Terrorism ?


Listen  terrorism exists inside of bungalows

Up there in high rises    even in churches

I have met too many young victims of

mothers&fathers&step-uncles&brothers      &aunts&grandmothers

to not know the answer to this question


Terrorism exists in the microcosm  its cells

multiplying in plain sight   You just have to know        which doorbell to ring

and then go ring it    in broad day light



*according to the BBC thousands of children in Africa

are abandoned, tortured, and murdered, for being witches

*in the U.S. close to 2000 children die each year as a result

of abuse


Spring  2013




Last night  a hulking man  with long hair  & sweet grin

The voice of an Archangel    lyrics akin   to Walt  Whitman

Was largely ignored by the  RobFord  crowd    at the Horseshoe


About 50 civilized souls circled around    the Alt-Folkie  and

beat back the rednecks with disgusted pleas     What it all means ?

These base people deserve Rob Ford   are Rob Ford  need Rob Ford

to make them look better     than they are



*sharks & humans have a lot in common  

they will both eat anything  in order to survive


Spring  2013



Muse lies about    lethargy came on

suddenly    Mrs. Soprano lay in bed       for days

my brother said    We wondered if it

was   stress or   mafioso overload


Could Muse be on a burnout baby ?

Do muses have a shelf-life   a lifespan

a best before ?     Or   is she simply

disgusted with my daily begging her      for  more more more


Clearly she is power hungry   making me

grovel     Hobbling me  with her selfish

refusal to be my    sweet  word-whore



Spring  2013




A lot of spills lately   Beet juice

cascades down my legs  looks like

vampires lunched   Peach purse       now  to die for  ruby


Paul Newman Caesar  smashes

in aisle 8   I walk slowly away  as       oil slick

stains   beige patent leather


But she is near perfect  old lace scarf

haphazardly placed   Perfect diamonds       perfect face

Peachy   sprinkled with pale freckles           fuchsia lip


Lipstick stays in place as               baguette dismembered


Young husband  bland as can be

When she drops something  she

does it   oh so carefully


But her voice  rough around the edges            screams    G.F.E.

And it finally dawns on me   that freebies      maybe      overrated


*G.F.E.  girlfriend experience 

a form of prostitution includes 

french kissinghugging, talking, and

eating a meal together


Spring   2013



Last night I was haunted by my

dead cousin     3 yrs. ago today

I stood at the bed where she lay        ravaged by lung cancer


I just stopped smoking yesterday

she said  through terror stricken gasps

I looked behind the bed  and found the plug       un- plugged 


There was little oxygen flowing at St. Joe’s     that day


I heard her beg for her life

But the doctor was contrite:

There’s tumor  everywhere  


He tried to let her down gently:

I’ll see if I can free the lung   the

one   that has not  collapsed


But alas she was dead before the

setting sun cast  a long shadow


Strange how we hadn’t seen each

other in 30 yrs.   And there I was

gazing at her   blue feet & grey tears



Spring  2010



After his moonwalk   Buzz spoke about

the  melancholy of things done   Then he

sold Cadillacs   battled depression    &        alcoholism


Maybe it all began with Buzz  and the race

for space    Treadmarks on earth’s ghostly

twin    Time sped up    Now we’re 13 yrs.       into   the new millennium


There is still Good & Evil  but it’s getting

harder  to tell them apart       Mayor  masquerades

as magistrate    Prime Minister   morphs into fraudster ?


Perhaps he will soon sell Dodges


I maintain that it all started with      the Moon

more desolation

more fervour

more doom



I don’t think I’m going to feel the way that Buzz did

*Chris Hadfield   Canada’s Bowie


Spring  2013



black eyes  pig tails

if there was only

green left i’d miss pink


little darkling

the weight

of your fate

hangs  heavy


the loudest slap

you’ve ever heard

rings out


nonno’s handprint on your cheek


much louder than

mommy’s slaps

and much harder


the snowflakes are

raging against

your captivity              little darkling


i get it !  nonno

taught mommy

to hit   and now

they’re teaching   me



Winter   2010

Post Navigation