songanddancegirl

ultrasoundblues

 

technician looked 13

squeakyclean

voice to match

think woody’s manhattan

 

i ask: how do my ovaries look?

(i know  too much info  bros stop reading now)

 

your ovaries?

yes  myfuckingovaries!

you don’t have ovaries    anymore

 

thunderous silence

__

 

 

 

Winter 2019

 

eyes wide open

in last night’s dream you opened your eyes  several

times  dead brother  this morning my shower light

flickered  i know it’s you martine  another bro has

assured me of weird electrical occurrences  i.e..,

poltergeists and dead relatives making contact

 

some people think i have gone starkers  but i no

longer care  dead philip roth said: old age is a massacre

i agree but in a good way  shredding wondergirl ego

so that eviscerated-crone  can breathe   +shout obscenities

at her dentist

 

o the freedom   the freedom

__

 

 

 

 

Winter 2019

on my back’s a 60 lb stone

i think that love is an amazing  vehicle   transports

you across eons   as in: i know where to find lee +

marty   one on a white horse with wings   the other

faking a pass  +running fast and hard   running away

from a future that spells death   by tonguebite    by

livermangle

 

but ultimately love is the rising   step right up!  ’cause

these 2 cowboys are still here   i just don’t have their

addresses anymore   brother can you spare  the

plane fare to buttfuck?

 

i’m on my way

__

 

 

 

 

Winter 2019

theseboots

scurrying on frozen streets to healthy place where

rich girls growl  and quinoa is the price of cocaine

one young lady  berated another customer loudly

i’m not sure how healthy these people really are   i

do know that they are meangreen  mostly lean  with

permasnarls   i was not popular  though several older

male adults   drooled over my pinkboots

 

one all slackjawed+audacious  asked:  you working?  

as he rubbed his jerked kale against me

 

hey  it’s january

__

 

 

 

Winter 2019

 

 

the dog days are over?

happiness

camus says sisyphus was happy!  pushing that giant rock

hell is other people and their theories on  happiness   but

you can trust me  as i have been studying the concept for

6+ decades

 

happiness

is the biggest fraud  since change became all the rage

ephemeral at best  and change?  you know it doesn’t exist

take ultima thule  our newest 700 billion dollar object d’ space

(has anyone in the space race even heard of cancer research?)

 

this oblong icy hunk has remained unchanged for 4.5 billion yrs.

and people don’t change   you heard it here  they dig in   and

become more of what they are   C.G. Jung believed this to be

a wondrous thing   individuation   becoming yourself

 

were it so simple  we would all be our authentic selves  whodreams

upthisshit?   now back to happiness   a cake in the oven  a warm gun

you asked for it  now you can suckonmaudlin  but know  that if happiness

is your goal  you will chase an itchy tail

 

the putrefacto of the alchemists is where it’s at   those deep cauldrons of

pleasurepain  those cycles of birthdeath  think regeneration  think rainbows

why my ventricles are growing poppies!  a fuckingmiracle  after recent death

watch  astride a treasured brother’s grave    happiness is fraud

 

resurrection free

 

and if you believe that  i have some land in florida you can buy for a song  a song!

__

 

 

 

Happy 2019

what would bob say?

the most tragic thing about this memory is a bag

a clear hospital issue bag  now filled with his stuff

made meaningless

 

cancercarnival  you robber of dignity   you archangel

of multiplyingcells  until a man is a mangle of his former

self   draining

 

in this plastic bag his cellphone  soon to dial a crazed sister

as she tells bored girldoctor  i need benzos for this particular

brand of pain

 

but what i really want to say is: nothing will ever be the same

despite mounting platitudes to the contrary  and anyway i too

grow weary of this uncheery blahblah

 

be careful what you ask for remaining bros  who are also weary

i promise the simple wisdom of bob dylan   i promise to love the

quotidian   to be a happy sisyphus   pushing my rock   everything

is broken   everything is blowin in the wind

 

but what to do with the anger?  root word for angina  and btw where

thefuckismybrother’s plastic baggie?  i rest my case  on this freezing

first day  of the rest of my life   without him   happy 2019 eh

__

 

..only those things should be feared that have power to do us ill,

nothing else, for nothing else is fearful……fuckdeath..

Dante Alighieri  1265-1321  The Inferno 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Year’s Day 2019