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

Archive for the month “February, 2019”

on ccccccourage

do i have less of it now?  used up  eaten

beaten down?  or is it not required from

this  squalid  point  on?


maybe fear is better for enlightenment

courage for endarkenment  plus a hearing aid

and a bullshit meter that works   finally immune

to snakeoiled charismatics   and guys who have

a chicken to pet


recently told my old mother her 1st born was

dead   tell me the last lionhearted thing u did


a sky full of stars can be tiresome  constellation

fatigue   mystery overload   as can talk about

courage be   which is not required at 3   unless

the dad has designs on u


at 63 courage is near meaningless

so will it be blind faith?  or no faith?

or blindpigs?









Winter 2019

you must go on

i can’t go on

i’ll go on

(Samuel Beckett ..who in order to write this

knew a thing or 2 about blindpigs..)

ooooh that smell

u faced it like

a soldier

u wanted it

brave and becrazed

with cancer


it bought u 18 mths

u wore the scar like

a beltofthorns

lower abdomen


with blackstitches





a 16 yr old latina

died in the

next room


we marched along


me beside u

holding tubes


another brother


pushing a chair

just incase


it wouldn’t have

been u to fall

but me


fainting dead away

what with the reek

smell that smell


no one lived as well

or as big

big bro

no matter what the score


u rode the bucking


all the way to mexico


where a girl named diabla

tried to get u to support

a small town in bosnia





Winter 2019

..neo bladder Feb. 23, 2017 for Martine..

a.k.a. Bladderman…who sits on his patio

smoking a stogie..watching the clouds go by

down in Mexico..miss u forever bro..


everything is irie


from a dream

in a hotel  recently

thought i was in another



next door to the room

where my bro lay dying

but still  ALIVE

which is what came  to mind


if i am in that other room  then

he hasn’t died!  my heart felt young

unsuffered   litepink  and free!


which i have waited too long to be


the 106 yr. old lady named Kitty  at

my mother’s retirement rez  is dead

family took her to Jamaica  where she

ditched this veil o’ tears


(well how long did you want her to live  mother snarled)


now Kitty is IRIE   +we are still

eating cheesecake

every tuesday

my old mother and i








Winter 2019 more that too much to ask?..






movedtocalipermanently  backin90


livedalone  inhighcliffs  atbigsur

fellforaguy  who microdosed



hadavision    where

a tall-yellow-house  leakingwater

became a barge-ark

+onit she escaped




ebbing in her bindings  languorous sea dream

looking up with eyes made huge by the water

at bellies of trout and the well of the rumpled 

world beyond   she rises  she rises

(Cormac McCarthy & AAC   Suttree  1979)





winter 2019 aprillresurrection..staytuned..


I never fell in love while on vacation

but my boyfriend regularly did   it

would start on the plane down  to the

tiny island  all turquoised +glinting


Caribbean transmutation  cavort on

beach with girlfromplane   jane with

giant quebecois nipples  he became hef

the polish hef  which is never a good look


unhitched wagon from sleazebag symon

fuck the caribbean+its environs



(..polish hef..)





Winter 2019  ..he gives a bad name to a proud people..

springfever eh


pagan festival


stirring seeds


coincides with

mardi gras  roughly


everything alive  still

just entombed  in ice    or ash?

bro’s ashes resting in    a tropical closet paradise


waiting to bloom  up

out of the dampfecund

only to die  again


like the god who dies

and is ever reborn


don’t leave me here

with these people!





What would you say to God? 

I’d say: wait a minute  what did you have me

in that crapgame down there for anyway?

couldn’t put any part of it together.

( Suttree   Cormac McCarthy  1979)



Winter 2019   .. to wiser gods ..+ my brother’s resurrection..





the deadpeople grow more beautiful with each passing day

today a gorgeous woman  Cornelia Dragland 63

pg 20  obituaries  +William Paddon McKenzie 23

no euphemisms for drugs or suicide   and since i

am a mere brotherdeath away from the asylum  i

will tell u frankly


squander not the icestorms of february  do glide

over iceysurfaces  with your hardwon courage  forged

at deathbeds +birthbeds  in bedrooms where 60 

stitches to the chest are nurtured  (bros stop rolling

your eyes)   i rise   i rise


and in the interstices between now +spring  a wondrous

thing  called numbing  is coming  to the greymatter of your

aging brain


run with it






Winter 2019 honour of World Cancer Day..



Than the diagnosis

The chemo

The surgeries

The scars

(The Canadian Cancer Society February 4, 2019, 

1 in 2 Canadians are affected by cancer..)


have u ever had to forgive someone?

christians believe in forgiveness   jesus likely

invented it  and it was a good thing  of course

civilization depends   rides on its back   without

it we are  perpetually vengeful  old testemented

unable to forgive the slavedriver’s whip


but have u ever had to forgive someone  anyone?

the ones who would keep you from a dying brother

rape you   murder your parents   i mean i could go on    and on

yes  forgiveness is a beautiful thing  hope  its illegitimate



have u ever tried to forgive someone  anyone?  that’s an

interesting question  my pure as the driven snow  born

again husband said  never having confronted the daily

grind of it   iloveuihateuiloveuhateuhateu  hateu


and have u ever done something because u don’t want

to look bad for not having done it?


forgive me father


for writing a maudlin poem


forgiveness is the balm of gilead

it gives u back your name in the long dark night

your dignity  after throwing glasses  and expletives

around   and the many will come dance on your grave




Winter 2019  ..for Martine..

the less I needed
the better I

something in me
relaxed, smoothed
i no longer had to
prove that I was a

I didn’t have to prove

I began to feel good,
I began to feel good
in the worst situations

I welcomed shots of
peace, tattered shards of

(Charles Bukowski  Let It Enfold You)

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