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

Archive for the month “August, 2022”

depersonalization nation

aka  headfuck  which was the verbal tic of

a boy we knew  after too much frogblotter

for this poet  that cute speckled frog  psychedelisized

those strange young breasts on the blind faith album


this almost led to schizoid splitting  at 12  those breasts

already trip inducing  blueveiny  with translucent points


now fast forward to trips taken  non lysergic induced  some

53 yrs later   during the great pestilence


yesterday while driving on longtrod streets (this after narrowly

missing a shooting in hipster park from hell) i looked up at the

ugly cake shops  +restos serving 20 buck cocktails to cockswains


and i was  unmoored


moments of  where am i   were long +offput   depersonalization

blooming  that dreaded twin of covidfog  a milder form of brainfuck

unless u are 90  +delirium sets in   your mind never to be heard

from  again


adrift  is the new normal  bouts of vertigo  crying in local metro

+facing the hard cold fact of a heartless corona  one that lodges

in the braindrain


i now know how i would handle war  clawing my way over bodies

selling my soul+body  and giving up names   it seems the survival

instinct  is  the killer instinct in sheepsclothes  i would do anything

to get out alive   not to mention what i’d do to save my mother


u too exalted?  too moral?  how about when the alternative is: to be

placed on a stage +forced to have sex with ones father?  a regular

Nazi pastime    (yes)


OK  now how about u?   u ready to climb over the semi-dead too?



Summer 2022  ..this is an unmoored poem..


the hag of cronesville + other stories

is aging the new death? can u all just give us

a few years to shrivel fer chrissakes?  so the box

is not filled with celebrityskin  all pink puff +hopeful


have u ever seen 100 yr old skin?  thin-skinned doesn’t

begin to cover it   sheer  veering off of bonesbrittle  creases

hiding small dogs  +mouldering sins


soon to merge with the  BIG HOLY SHIT  as in: almost

ghosted by God  every 10 yrs a stranger has the reigns

burns down the mission  u hardscrabbled to build


the million watt RED hair (u took a 2nd mortgage for) while

half listening to hair zombies  +a stylist who in dead monotone

says: so what u doing with the rest of your life  day?


u forcefeed her quips  half truths  u give her the best 30 yrs

of your life  now shorn  +pallid grey  u have nothing to say

your kingdom’s up for sale    again


this time filled with:  shapewear  too tight to eat  breathe + die in

plus a few leather jackets from your days impersonating anti-heroes

now antichrist +crepey  your 70’s loom  like a blowtorch



Summer 2022  ..anarchy poseurs unite..

what i did on my summer vacation

10 days in a covidbunker  with my 98 yr old mother

me: delirium tremens  weary  skin lifeless  +blob

she fared much worse


elan +chignon  gone   near hundred year old skin

clinging  chains clanging  the nasty cocktail of pills

keeping her unalive   growing


doctor’s vampire incisors glint   mrs. death cracks a

knowing smile  u humans are the dumbest bastards

god ever created 


verbatim my long dead father’s sentiment re: an uncut

pizza in the laurentians  we tore it to shreds with our

younghands  whilst father threw beers at passersby



Summer of Rona  ..we are family..🦇🦇🦇


did u know there are 5 loon calls?  one is cackle

+looneybin   perhaps where this non PC moniker

of madness  was born


i heard it once in the woods at 4 am


with my husband of 3 yrs.  a real woodsy piece of work

even more so now  a hairsbreadth from 70  says things like:

sorry if u see it that way  á la Julie Payette  the fired Gov Gen


(both Gestalt therapy savants ie., deny deny deny!)


i read somewhere that the combo of Viking+Jew  is the most

fiery of all unions  how true  my kishkas are BBQ’d  + on chilly

nights  under moonsblue   i cackle like a loonfool


our final act may involve murder  or renewed vows!  ’cause once

you’ve had Viking  you are broken+brunhilda   able to eat rawbison

with yer bare hands   yet forever transformed  🐃 🐃


Mighty Thor  circa 1974


Summer 2022   ..hey Thor ..don’t lose yer sense of humour..







rumour has it

some rumours i have heard:

nails+hair continue to grow  in the grave

i know u are rolling your eyes  thinking  old poet

go on a fucking holiday!


maybe too late for that  2.5 yrs into the pestilence

i spent my 1st evening  with more than 3 people

there were 10


though i walked like a human  +talked like a human

i was zombified   trying to recall how to socialize  which

i never truly mastered  pre these covidtimes


i could tell my interlocutor wanted to escape  my wordswamp

words  stuck+defeated  croaked out   my train of thought

dead on the tracks


head-on collision  with emptiness  the font went dry  my left

eyesore  spied my loved one  escaping   all 10 party-people

were close family members


this one left me  mid-sentence  never to be heard from  again

rumour has it   he is now a porn star  in Berlin   fuck him

there was this terrible weighed down feeling   in my chest


mantle of mourning  for former life  rife with  concerts  libraries

+the temple of Gehry  making out with strangers in cafes

much sashay


old age is not an obscure rumour

except for in the

first two thirds of life

when it’s a cry for help


Summer 2022  ..okay okay..don’t get all depressed..


Post Navigation