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

Archive for the month “May, 2020”

zimmy what did u mean when u said everything is broken?

my poet died this week   my time with him was

short+bleak  or was it long+hard?  hard to know

so long ago  that we sat in various haunts  where

he would pretend to read my poems  without his



maybe they were better that way   back in those

days  i used 3+4 letter words  +rhymed obsessively

you remind me of busta rhymes!  he said   i thought

it was a compliment   but now he’s dead   our thread

cancelled    when he jumped


but you know   that other jewish poet  with hair like me

rhymed way more prodigiously  +he won a nobel   to

which he said  go to hell   (busta rhymin for your amusement)

they shoot horses   and some old poets


i always thought zimmy looked like a girl rabbi   his voice

now a saw  on the cartilage of middle age   while grey

hair sprouts  in the pandemonium of corona


the way everything did  when i was young  when death+taxes

divorce+cancer  were highly theoretical  +falling out of love

the great mystery



i enjoyed the seafood chowder at the Gladstone with pretty

Aprill  but had to go back to the kitchen with my wide bowl &

say  more broth for God’s sake   more baguette   how about

some fucking butter?  (Watermelon Kindness  David Donnell  2010)



Spring 2020   RIP David Donnell  ..poet extraordinaire +man about town..



and we gotta get ourselves back to the garden bud

lately i have been buying up masks  apocalypseporn

shopping for the forlorn  covidsexual   i don’t so much

mind being masked  at least the socially acceptable smile

is cancelled  they cannot see (thankfully) what u really feel

and it is not beatific  think of all the uncensored  fuckyous!


(smile!! they said  in the midst of my recent cancer tour)

*don’t worry i took their numbers


it seems to me   this is the dream   u cannot wake up  from

no matter how hard u pluck at your eyes   the now   has become

one of   those   dreams:    a lion   a nazi    a gun


and a guy  who says: you have a choice  either shoot yourself   or i shoot u      boohoo


ok!  WILL YOURSELF AWAKE   timetravel  back to your

real life   rife with fights  +vicissitudes   shit blowing in  from

the dark recesses  of a cousin’s closet  clobbbbbbbers u       history gone virrrrrrrral


maybe the best we can do  is wakeup to:  what we  were

i.e.,  old    alive+dying  all at once    i cannot go on     i must

go on     she does not move


*(to paraphrase beckett)    hey  at least i’m giving him credit!


stuck here

in the mud

of a deep fugue

as i do battle  with the invisible sun king ☀️    avert your eyes



these are on sale ..39 cents a dozen..

there is no vaccine for extraversion..


Spring  2020

we are golden jerry golden!

at the risk of sounding bitter  i cannot help but

shudder  NASA will spend 81 billion on a launch

today   while in our neck of terrestrial hell  a very

special window  is under construction  at our

96 yr. old mother’s rez


this window will be made of  used kryptonite  at a

cost of 69 cents   no expense spared to reunite us

now separated by the spikeycoronabastard for 3 mts.


this as heathenhipsters  fill our parks  with sweat+bathos

sorry  no child of god present  s/he was crucified up at

yasgur’s farm  in 69




Spring  2020  🦇🦇☀️☀️☀️

please don’t be dead

last night watched a dead poet for almost 3 hrs

on my screen  tompetty  all hopped up + shaking

like a mover


nothing but dead shamans + covid 19


today visited brother’s grave   buried whitepowder

under a whitepine tree   winds gale force  tree unbending


powder  unrepenting+free


lastdays dwindling   at a florida turtle preserve   this entire

story   reeks of mythology   but  so  did  he




Spring 2020   RIP Marty

not her first rodeo


our mother’s 1st quarantine was in 1931  at 7

in a sanatorium for tuberculins +the fevered

clothes burned before+after  frankly scarlet


i have the photo  she stands beside a tree  all

dickensian+waif   thin ragdress  palliddistress

not smiling  like those dustbowl kids  begrimed



her sister julie  was taken by the other plague

the diphtheria  at 6   all trials are etched into

the central nervous system  yet mother’s doc is

blithely unaware of this


when she peppers me with pointed less questions

i play dead   what else can a girl do  as the covid

stalks her old mother


that early stint in solitary  paved the way for

a lifetime of dreading  ALONE   yet yesterday

she asked for a break  from  the facephone  !


can u all give me some space!  the couch is getting

crowded  and my brownbroth awaits   2 bowls!

as god is my witness   i’ll never be hungry again

__ god is my witness they’re not going to lick me..

i’m going to live through this if i have to lie, cheat,

steal or kill ..   (Scarlett  1936  + Frances  2020)



Spring 2020  ..8 weeks in solitary +counting..



amnesia is a coping skill.. *friedrich nietzsche

apparently so is holding in every feeling  you have had

since 1976  (year of  teenaged marriage  to numero uno)

the problem is:  bizarre breakout crymoans   which shall

heretofore be known as:  b to the 2nd +c 


think  being shivved

think  suckerpunch  suckers

think  racingheartmortis from  the backlog    (oh the backlog  said a loser uncle)


think  it’s my party + i’ll cry if i  fuckingwantto


don’t worry

just joshin yas



..i am not a man  i am dynamite..  

(Friedrich Nietzsche  Ecce, Destiny, 1)




** ..the ability to self numb + dissociate  can lead to abrupt alien abduction  

(a to the 3rd)  as feelings are in high demand on frozen planets..    

(AAC  psycho therapist+poet)



Spring 2020 ..hands up if u really want trump in a mask?..



when covidconvicts touch


yesterday i drove up  the dreaded bathurst st.  home of

my live mother  +my 31 yrs. dead   dad    a pilgrimage

grim+covid    blame the powers that be  for this bungled



orange don  who certainly has covid-toes  the thought

of which  in addition to his haircovered bits   is vomitous

then there is our own soft-talker  a salt+peppered vampire

rubbing his hands together   all snakeoil+slime


but i digress   this poem is about the fallout   the time is now

for otherwise healthy 90+ yr. olds  to find themselves wheelchair

bound  after being left in broomclosets in quebec


mother and i stood like convicts  touching the virus-sprackled

window at her rez   did u ever wonder why convicts touch their

hands to the glass?     u better sit down


an electrical current passes thru the membranes!  resulting in

instant imprinting   upon death those very DNA particles  lead

convicts  + the gassed   straight BACK to each other


my old mother cannot fathom why her formerly erudite neighbour

is slackjawed+demented this morning   why it’s the covid mummy


the what??   








Spring 2020  ..let us in..

old ludicrosities re-visited


Now 1/2 empty  in shimmering dilapidation   remembering

the days of kittenish anticipation   Almost spoiled the sweet

Thanksgiving spuds    Too much chaos in old psyche  to use

utensils with care   Sauce does not fair  well   ginger allspice

nutmeg  in heaps  tastes earthy  old  unsweet   (throw the

orange motherfuckers out!   my inner poltergeist screams)


How To Re-Invent Yourself at 60  For Dummies   the book is

called   1/2 of me wants to crawl under a rock   1/4 wants to

eat cake   1/4 wants to soar  once more  before  mortis  motherless    +terrific



In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are

emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you

are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I don’t know

what I am. I don’t know if I am or not. 

William Faulkner   As I Lay Dying  1930



*OCTOBER  2014* tour over..fuck cake+rocks+soaring..+covid

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