buried deep
inside my
right brain
now drained
after 7+ hrs. twisting
in flannel
sheets
-17 with
windchill eh
a snowday
in we-the-north
what i wouldn’t
give to pull
the best line ever
to land inside my head
still attached to
my body
with odd new
cavities
where
COVID 19
is viewing
the virtual tour
__
Winter 2020
why so glum chum? a little client once said
that to me i’d lost my bonhomie +he noticed
guess i was more depressed than he
dear life:
get a grip
( i said this last bit just recently
to the nasty who tried to hack
my soul she made off with the dye pack
now forever stained with the scarlet A for
absafuckinglutely not fabulous )
dear life:
save us from the ones who bandy words
like light + journey u just know they’re
white knuckling it all the way while the rest of us
live to fight another day mostly in the dark
because answers +light are overrated
all good dung beetles +alchemists know that
the path to enlightenment is through shit +
darkness run from preachers of light +easyglory
__
She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom..
Winter 2020
so when did we unfriend death? was it when the
first cave dweller lay down +did not get up? was it
then that we invented immortality? that mystical nodeath
zone where santa + st. valentine vie for your soul
face it immortality’s only for the GOOD while death
is democratic nonelitist he takes scumbags! but just
might like the good little plebes a tad better juicer +less
acrid on the reap’s tongue
why not teach kids about death right from the get go? so
that when they enter their first deathbedscene it isn’t
a shitshow like my recent deathbed scenario where even
the chickennecked cancer doc could not say the word D E A T H
oh don’t say that word in front of the dying guy! or he might die!
hmmmmm lifedeath deathlife twin doors u get shoved through
and i cannot emphasize this enough
__
Winter 2020
gofuckyourself
too easy too predictable
hit the roadjack and don’t u
come back no mo
that’s better
but all fall on deafcancergod ears
uncle c wants u ! picture the picture
silver haired man intense nose pointing
right at u
i want u bitch
so don’t huddle masses live dammit! fly
out of that hospicebed you’re lighter now
’cause of how much u bled !
but i saw the hallelujah moment u rising
the others too notmyfirstrodeo
all the simple doctors who say: 3-6 months for grieving
or we’ll haul u kicking +screaming
to a white room withwhitecurtains
so little understanding of what we are
so many away that day at med school
we’re tribal in our DNA pack animals
herders of children gnaw off a paw for
a feeble father walk over coals to reclaim
human remains unless yer so wounded
you just howl all night +leave yer kinfolk unclaimed
this happens frequently the modern era not what
it’s cracked up to be dear cancer why r u so angry?
so fucked up? can we get u a cup of tea? or some
therapy?
__
Winter 2020
u don’t have to be born during the
blitz á la Keith Richards or be an (orangetinged)
american oligarch to be caught in
the crosshairs of a hurricane
1950 feminism still in infancy me too decades
away height of greasy deanmartin docs
dispensing benzos like pez valley of dolls
a different kind of rez (hurricane of mistresses) betty dawn gina jackie floozy
all the women i know from that era were
hooked now dying off benzos verboten
’cause of memory issues+falls like they
don’t have these anyway (duh)
but without
cooking
cleaning
raising 3.7 kids
laundry
cooking
1950’s men (run for your life)
these dolls have ZERO to do but w a i t
and waiting is not for sissies without
interests or identities it is a bingo (great for fucking eye hand coordination!)
ridden eternity
__
Winter 2020
ravages of a novel virus
(do they always have to say that?)
no not cormac’s the road
not that kind of novel
though apocalypse seems
an understatement
700+ dead 23,000 infected
1st daze of 20’s not in with lambs
more silence of
so do we just put our heads in
the sand? better than up our asses
because a man named don just ate
the last morsels of democracy
and one is stuck in his upper incisor
CHOMPCHOMP!
__
Winter 2020
what have u given us lately?
cussing
concussing
heroics of the walrus coach
+a young muppet named mahomes
oh +a halftime show showcasing
female subjugation tropes shakira+
lo jo shaking their poleworthy parts
how about showing us femaleglory
sans the holes-in-souls who dance for
their supper
but then again if u watch with the bigboys
instant entreé to the innersanctum no
matter how pink yer shoes
+later after all the chestpounding ever so
stealthily your footballfather +qb bro visit
briefly to debrief sb 54
Lee laughs with his head thrown back (a rarity)
+MA with impish grin in place regales with tales
starring the girls of heaven apparently playboy
+sports illustrated are lining up to sign ’em
__
Winter 2020 ..RIP MA + LA..
ok
so
hope
doesn’t
float
but
it
almost
did
now kobe
lives
in
mamba
heaven
and 210
are
dead
from a
snakeinduced
flu
is this
biblical
enough
for you?
will the last
man
standing
be le bron?
with his
freshly minted
black mamba tatt
left foreleg
they shoot horses don’t they?
as humanity wages
war against itself
we are our own
autoimmune disease
+ everywhere
snakes
are
laughing
__
Winter 2020 ..RIP Black Mamba +hope ?..
Carl Jung said the dead are gathered at the
top of the world waiting for us +when we arrive
we impart what dribs of wise we have accumulated
so try not to talk incessantly about people God
doesn’t know
ie., 27 minute diatribes about so + so’s
boat
his moated villa
his dead whore
no! talk instead about those things you know
to be true +if you do not know truths then listen
ie., shutthefuckup
my father not a swiss psychiatrist but a renowned
horsewhisperer a man who did not make a beggar
of himself as a venal cousin has suggested his favourite
word was silence his favourite sounds were:
one hand clapping
trees falling in the forest
horse
dog
bird
word
__
Winter 2020
this poem not sure what it wants to be
sitting quietly flummoxed by opaque
dreamscape scraping scraps from
begging bowl *a pot induced lack of soul
(*SOMA by any other name)
evil pot doc – the main side effect is psychic constipation
near dead poet – sign me up!
but i am making a comeback through
the mundane chopping wood watching
screens calls to BELL TDCANADATRUST
ROGERS NIRVANA ROOFERS R’US have
ground a once proud flowerchild to dust
but don’t cry for me argentina i commit the
pact of faust daily with an e.coliridden samsung
capturing + nailing light to my wall little immortalities
+please do excuse me while i fuck the sky
oy
__
Winter 2020
*Soma – the happiness pill of the brave new world..
“Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the
overcompensations for misery. And being contented has none of the
glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness
of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt.
Happiness is never grand.” (
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songanddancegirl 