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

Archive for the month “February, 2014”



He was red  from head to toe

Gnarly red   Red stubble on face

The door behind which he crouched   pulsed

You knew something   someone

lay  in wait


His grin lascivious   yellow teeth

He reeked of hell   & frankincense


In the battle that ensued  he kept coming

at you    Plates flew in every direction

You bashed a few over  his red head


And later in a dress of blue on the elevator

at Loblaws   you spoke in tongues

Your lipstick   MAC  Diablo



girl devil:use



Winter  2014



Tennessee Williams said: The sound of

the clock ticking on the wall is loss loss loss

Andrew Oswald economist at Warwick U

has been studying human happiness for 20 yrs.


He has concluded that all primates have mid-life

crises  & get happier in old age  *(except for Ted Nugent)


Rust Cohle  the psycho cop on True Detective

thinks that it is an act of incomparable hubris

to put a soul into a human body   Into this shredder

he says of human life


So what does your ticking clock say?


Mine today: apologize  apologize  apologize   (already)

ted nugent ted nugent ted nugent




Winter  2014










In my summer haunts   an icy pall

as I pick my way down a hill    It feels

like days ago under hazy sky I walked

with slow defiance


Now The Great Upheaval  tempts us

indoors   where the A.G.O.  cleverly?

leads us toward:  war-sounds   

Then to gift shop crammed with Art Deco


In the centre of the show there is a

jagged affair   A love that has turned blue

Breath held through embrace   No escape


Flowers will bloom where seed spills   Soon

winter will be  jettisoned   indefinitely

Art patrons dash for the exits   & limp out

onto streets    It is  -17


Somewhere in the distance  as melancholy melts

a woman with a polka dot dress  & cubist face

raises her head    and screams



otto guttfreund:sculpture



Winter  2014  *Embracing Figures Blue Patina  Otto Gutfreund  1913



Ruby is from Africa   Congo

Everyone  needs  one friend

to remind them of  the child

they once were    Unless

someone is   her brother   A boy soldier by 8


I encounter her at Planet Car Wash

Ruby blurts out her story in sub-zero

un-glory  on a mouldering February

day   Strangers always do that   I must

have catharsis about my eyes


Yesterday I read in T.O. Life:


I feel for all new Torontonians  300,000

without power in the ice storm  200,000

in the July flood   Better go buy a flashlight


Harsh coming from wine soaked editor:


I invited my neighbours over for wine in the

storm    We were so bored


Ruby said on the day they took her brother

they also took her mother   & made her a

mattress slave    A little ice    A little water

Sub-zero weather  for her a second innocence

Ruby never gets bored in Canada


Ruby I will save you   tomorrow




Winter 2014



We are a desert people   Never knew

if we’d make it out   40 days + 40 nights

Felt like 1000  (go know there were locusts)

There is a twist of irony to all we say

You just never know if you will survive the day


Ma   I’m going to San Francisco tomorrow!

Man makes plans   God laughs




Winter  2014



My new Comrags dress

is navy blue   A replica

of that dress from Florence

The cover of Italian Vogue   (1984)

on Patti Hansen Richards

White   for the wedding that

went missing





Winter 2014



Digging in the dirt   Today so much

mud and water   Dirt floats   & Noah

might even have trouble  reclaiming

his projections   Dealing with his shit


This day is not for hope-squelched

citydwellers   You must have grit to

get through it   Like the man on the

corner waiting for the bus


A Bukowski dead-ringer   Face scarred

& misshapen   eyes sunken ships   Almost

feral   He will likely either:  murder the bus

driver  or jump into my car   & beat some

sense into me?


For not renting the apartment in San Francisco   20 yrs.ago


When I was plump with possibility & organic

granola   California  has a way of getting under

the skin  & in my 57th year  I can still smell the

fear  lessness   encountered there


Big Sur   Henry Miller long dead   & Liz Smart’s

ghost still weeping  by Grand Central Station

My thoughts perpetually creeping   to Divisadero St.


let me in




Winter  2014



Resentment scented flowers   bitterness weed

Do you really want to wake up in a country

without men ?  Why bash them so heartily then?


Locate yourself in the thickness of things   If you

smile at the ape-man up there on the roof   he will

smile back   All thoughts of  jumping you  will vanish


He is youngish  not un-handsome  must have sisters

a mother  somewhere ?   Try this every day for a month

You will have him eating out of your hand   instead of

drooling on the shingles


Confront brutes    with words that rhyme

You will be the pied piper lady poet of your block


The man with the shovel out back will lay his coat on the

melting snow   and encourage you to join him     at the altar




Winter  2014



Stanley Kunitz said: Poetry is mythology

telling stories of the soul   It’s adventures

in time  & in history


The soul dives into a body   builds a house for

an Ego   Jettisons said Ego   Soul now a fugitive

Free of the squalid human   Until the next dive


Nothing useful rhymes with motherlode   Our

adjectives cloying   Our clichés grating    But

dare  hire a poet     if your soul needs saving






Winter  2014



Ralph Waite   Pa on the Waltons  died

on Tuesday   He was 85   My father Lee

died 23 yrs. ago   He was 68    I thought

they would live forever


It is said that Ralph died at mid-day in

Palm Springs    Allan Mills  his manager

was  taken aback   Ralph had been in good



Both Ralph & Lee had Paul Newman eyes

Handsome  not entirely gentle men   Silent

types   with rivers of regret around the edges


The actress who played Erin Walton said:

He was like a real father to me   Goodnight

Daddy     I love you   


A gentle family drama  set in the Blue Ridge

Mountains   through the Depression & WW II

Inextricably entwined with mine


Bleak suburban playground   nouveau riche

& holocaust survivors    Life on a lush ravine


Ralph was our spiritual  father  back in the 70’s

He was an ordained minister  with a slow smile

that belied his battle with the bottle


When he said  Good night Mary Ellen  you could

almost taste your perfect future  apron  sensible shoes

family of  5       Those were simpler times






Winter 2014     Good night Pa   Goodnight John-boy   Good night Blackie

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