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

Archive for the month “December, 2018”

wings you say?

there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity 

to the promises of life…an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness

such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely

I shall ever find again..   (The Great Gatsby  F. Scott Fitzgerald  1925)


emptiness  even when one is convinced they are full  and extravagances

leading to collapse  and the cycle starts again   and again    rollo may  and i

contemplate the american dream   a rock pushed uphill   bird pecking at liver


but my bro escaped you know   oh  you weren’t aware of that?  yes he did  i say so

here and forever  loud and clear  HE ESCAPED   unhooked from the liverbird   now

flying high   No  not Icarus   you must be alive to be burned by the sun  in this myth

the son flies just high enough   soars over florida  +mexico   on his way home   these

wings are real   and in this place  there are no false highs   death is like that   maybe

you weren’t aware of that either



Charles Bukowski  america’s debauched poet



2019  bring it the end he unhitched the yoke..and he was happy and he was free..


heart of a dog

it feels like a bomb went off inside of my heart   lately

i cannot get a fulsome breath  laborious +relentless is

my stress  at about 8 i won the speech writing contest

with a treatise called: i am joe’s heart  written by my father

whose heart was already retiring  on its way to the operating

theatre where they would cut him  from stem to stern   and

cut they did   he clung to botched+bypassed ventricles  as brain

mangle set in  soon in a place where even reefer couldn’t help him


but I’ve got news for you  hearts are the 8th wonder of the world

close behind  the benzos  which my pre adolescent doctor informed

me  cause falls in older adults  who u calling an older adult  little miss

barbiedoctor?  though maybe i won’t require benzos come 2019  when

my girlheart will transmute into the heart of a dog  and dogs have 9 lives

or is it cats?  doesn’t matter ’cause i will light out for the territory ahead

where angels and cancer fear to tread  and my brother is running for prez




Winter 2018 lap of this wretched year..older adult my skinnywhite asssssss…

and we need your please vote: Marty for Prez..




god is a concept by which we measure our pain  yeah

i used to read tarot  but lately too close for comfort   how many

times can one pull the TOWER   you know  the card where everything

is falling   and i mean EVERYTHING  furniture  fruit  planets    a brother

animals  cars    e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g    the sky too   a humptydumptyworld

and no  he cannot be put back together again  sillysister   so how do we

march into another year without him?


we don’t


we bring him



(i have promised you poems of daffodils+sunshine come Spring –

a time when all the kings horses and all the kings men will put him

back together again.. just you wait..

but in the meantime back away

from the grieving sister)



Winter   2018  ..go away



2018 can kiss my skinny white  ankles

daddy died in ’89  so did secretariat  his favourite

horse  and it was reported in the newspaper: the great 

horseman lee atkins died this year  so too the horse with

three white socks   this christmastime we mourn his son

he built toronto  said a dental surgeon’s daughter playing

jewish geography   for all we know he  is still in mexico?

looking out his window  at  dirt roads  a donkey  and 1 drug

lord   the one left after 13 butchered in town square    i’m

never going there  where the doctors don’t know their asses

from cancer   but lunch is 4 bucks   and that’s 2 for 1





christmas 2018  ..come home already..


forever football

football is ballet  violent +bloody  some of the players

have raped   i see men paid millions  many looking really

out of shape!  gorefest for giants  questing for  what?  brain

disease in their 40’s  bodies that hurt for eternity  noble old

men with broken knees  hearts too   most only play 4 yrs

and in their senile dreams  they run  past the reaper  left in

golddust   run from the big C   not so much   but valiant they

go down   gladiators of hospice hell   back away from the men

men in the arena   they die beautiful  he’s so handsome  said the

hospice nurse  as george with equally meaty fingers  and brain

cancer  sat with his qb friend  chewed the fat about girls  and push

ups between chemo chairs   both florida tanned   george still kicking




Winter 2018 .. “the only way out  is through”.. Marty Atkins RIP..


bring me your huddled platitudes

seeing is believing   but what we saw   what transpired

expired   unhookthefuckingwires   life support deathdeniers

pacifiers   don’t get me started   too late


deathbed experiences are always intense   surreal events  not

for sissies   i have midwived a few  and my studies have found

birth  in reverse   the quiet  +peace  after the thrashing  and blood

it is us  left gnashing +gutted  who must be stitched back together


without anesthesia  unless you count don julio +kush   pull yourself

up by the bootstraps  i actually barked this at my old mother  the other

day  and i’m not even sure she remembers he’s gone  but then neither

do i   now splayed for all to see  the love and rage  that used to be between

me  and my god




Winter  2018  ..sostickyourplatitudeswherethesundon’tshine..


off with her head

my hands don’t look like my hands anymore

they are wrinkled  +carbuncle   but not much

of me really does  face mild resemblance  skin

none  canada is cold   barren as  an old aunt

skin sprackled  +crepey   i look to the horizon

in search   of more   sailors





Winter Solstice  ..light shmight..

carry on

got to carry on without me

fanmass of blue from the sky   3 hrs. plus of football  + i

cannot help but wonder why these hulking manboys earn

umpteen millions   carolina on my mind   they lost to the

saints last night  in a mediocre game  qb cam  a giant

babyman  chews blue gum  +sulks  but i wanna share his

clothes   flamboyant +jagger  he struts  in pink fur  for which

i am a sucker  that +filthy lucre   especially where a 250 lb.

burnished heisman is concerned   he is my trophy boyfriend

and in the same dream i circle the new pink planet   farout

(like naming the black dog blackie  dad!)   and there i find my

deadfootballbrother  in the bullrushes





Winter  2018



where life pulsed obscenely fecund

a picture window in the room  sunblare  fountain cool

florida heat outside the room  2 little visitor girls approach

the bed  and winged shapes flutter overhead   he being

called back to the ancestors  pallor of foetal pig  in biology

lab at 17   i am not cutting into that thing!  so dropped sciences

+became a fisherking   grail of wounded children taught me

not to gasp at suffering   a supervisor said:  you are the mary

poppins of family therapy  you must take off those white gloves

and touch their pain   except i touched it too much  lost a ventricle

and in the bowels of this hospice-from-hell  lost what was left of my

sanity too   but as the little girls in summer dresses sparkle with life   i

wipe the dust off  and fly home   now winter  and dead beetles caught

in the screens  unholy foolsister  seeking spring  when the melt will raise

her up again  emptier  less aprill




Winter 2018  for fisher kings  wounded healers +feelers  of too much..


in restless walks he’ll prowl the night

waiting for my dead brother’s phone to ring me

+waiting for Spring   when 2nd chances will be

handed out quite liberally





Winter 2018  ..light returns in 7 days..

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