songanddancegirl

the tao of what is to come

chordoma  sounds like a place in Spain  right?

NO  it is a site in husband’s brain  a word meaning

a  1 in 1 million  tumour

he is rare too  a rare fuckingstorm of a man  who

dropped on me  like a ton of bricks  from a Winnipegsky

wild  stoic  shy   BIGGUY    scots-metis   +shaman

his neurosurgeon  a babyfaced man  who reminds me of

Giannis Antetokounmpo  another brilliant greekfreak    i

can only hope that he has his way with  our  chordoma

and i do not say  our  lightly

__

Spring 2024     ..want more..

oh hello mrs. soul

there are 3 things that can happen to one’s soul:

it can be sold

it can be lost

it can be saved

selling one’s soul is a bit like pawning it   take Mr. Johnson

for example  his payment was guitar-god chops  his redemption

was   the blues     the blues   his immortality

BUT  when you  lose  your soul   there is no redemption   just a

gaping  hole   on a positive note !  at least you were not some

soullessfuck    your entire life     but you are now

*(private family shiva tuesday)

so where did you lose it?  just somewhere  along the way?

u poor wayfaring stranger  to yourself   almost unrecognizable

now   joie de vivre vivisection   chunks fetched a high price

soulsuckers scored   she was lithe  a blithe spirit  silkysweet

to-the-tongue  but grew gnarly  as a snake   sprouting the

horns of Lu      poor little jubu

all the zen in the world   ain’t gonna save you   that rock you been

pushin    steamrolled right over you baby   even the beaten down

furnace man   saw it yesterday   in your fridakahlo eyes

here comes the bus!

furnace man cried for his father  and his burntout dreams  bending

old ladies ears  with his syncopated reveries   GO AWAY !  i’m busy

with surgeons    did you know cancer docs  never use the word?

they say  malignancy  helps them deliver their  Kavorkian news

as your soul flies out the backdoor  of your cavity  (no! not there)

it ESCAPES    couldn’t it have taken you with?    faithful Sisyphus

well i have happy news for you   i intend to grow a new one   i feel it:

germinating

gestating

genuflecting

to the setting sun  (what was was)   to this next chapter  of your life

it’s gonna be  much gentler   amazing grace   methinks you’ve been

fucking saved !

___

sky of mercy  sky of fear
sky of memory+shadow
sky of longing+emptiness
sky of fullness  sky of blessed life..

(Bruce Springsteen  The Rising  2002)

Spring 2024   ..cancelled..  or is it?! 🌹🌹

all things must pass

at what point do you realize your dreams are those of

your younger  immortal self?  now infirmly in the rearview

sad but true  or maybe glorious  + a huge fucking relief

ALL THINGS MUST PASS

even the Higgs boson guy   he died yesterday  at 92   discovered

the God Particle  won a Nobel   +the Reap found him  in Edinburgh

at his pub    bub     enticed him into the alleyway

+whispered sweetbosons in his ear

so what do i mourn?   young joints   the slinkything   riding high   my crack

memory   this final seedcrop of my mind  a force to be reckoned with   pulsating

in the murk   spark it up old bitch    glorydays on the trail ahead  !    (uh huh)

dreams of ocean living  a dimming tide  why not move right into the hospital?

it’s blocks away  with a fabulous food court !  from which  your old mother couldn’t

be pried away    or  run for the fuckinghills   on knees eviscerate

to a place where there are  no hospitals   no ghoulish surgeons   ready with their

whippersnippers   the view from my nirvana is spectacular   almost beats the

solar eclipse   yesterday

where in my local park  a little boy shouted  el eclipsé  over +over   while another

peed openly on a tree he’d been whipping    it grew quiet   ears pricked up   hair

on the back of your neck  too

dark descends on the promised land

fancy boutiques   light up at noon    the last bird falls

+it grows as cold  as a witch’s teet   (like father used to say)

and then  another of those feelings of  euphoria  like in the pandemic  +your other

near death experiences   what exactly are these?   awe?  gratitude?  nirvana?   am i

even alive anymore?    what’s the difference?    you’ve been down so long

up   is a mere rumour

__

..angels often don’t know whether they’re moving among the living or the dead..

Rainer Maria Rilke   The First Elegy   1923

SPRING 2024  ..more slink..

cam’s gams

recently husband #3  spent time in 2 CAT scan + 2 MRI machines

calm   and metastatic ?  they’re scanning his bodyelectric 💥 but they

cannot locate his mind

a frigid nurse told me   it is undetectable Aprill  but i already know that

you see  husband #3 lives mostly  on  the Magic Mountain  with Hansy Castorp

how appropriate for a man(n) whose bricks+mortar home  is Buddenbrooks

Cam loves Thomas Mann +has lived a Mannian life  simple +committed  without

clutching at the complexities  of reality  existing on his own plane   Calling Cam!

Calling Cam!     +in his absence i am   at the mall

i actually cried when i read the last page of  The Magic Mountain   ..and so, in the 

tumult, in the rain, in the dusk, he disappears from sight..Farewell Hans Castorp,

life’s faithful problem child..

And thru the recent horrors  of his bodycavity search  he remained  friendly+doglike

accepting the yoke of the Reap  with equanimity  the only person i know who doesn’t

need to meditate    he is the meditation

his mantra   fore!  pancakes  bakeries  trees    i currently cannot see the forest

lost in the bowels of Sinai  where an old brother  searches endlessly for my carcass

desiccate +glowing    but i am a hardcore troubadour    leave no trace ape

i sing the body scan

the godless tube..

+the metastatic drummer

can kiss my skinny white ass

__

..has anyone supposed it lucky to be born?  i hasten to inform him or her

it is just as lucky to die..i am not contained between my hat and boots..

what do you think has become of the young and old men ..of the women

and children? ..they are alive and well  somewhere  the smallest sprout shows

there is really  NO DEATH..   Walt Whitman  Leaves of Grass  1855

Spring 2024  ..i’m sick of love..💔

two norths strong+free

we came upon a dark wood  i believe the Inferno of Dante

begins this way   in any case the dark wood is here to stay

but this stretch of life    presents   another way

exitfinal   lastchance   lastdance

today my barista fell in love with my  glo in the dark  skull pin

she collects them  too  headhunters of the macabre  we waxed

poetic on their smooth chaulkybeauty   brainsalad removed

she remarked: this may sound strange  but by the look of your

head  i can tell yours is beautiful   best pick-up line i have heard

in a long time

Prince Hamlet opined: We are born astride a grave   but some are so

afraid  it colours how they live   in fear   in flight    indentured slaves

to Mr. Reap   + an eternal night

husband number 3  is currently dealing  with an NDE   this morning he told me

about  magnetic north  and  true north   you see he is a forest ranger  boy scout

red beard   red chuck taylors  who often slept in   shrubbery

it’s secluded +warm  +you rarely find a hobo there   apparently they know the

best  sleeping-rough places   which often reek of urine  cigs  +freedom    i wish i

had realized sooner that he is  entirely  undomesticate-able

a bear  or horse  or buffalo   here incognito

i would have seriously lowered my expectations  he belongs on the river  with

Becky Thatcher  a now brawny woman in Greb Zodiacs  with muscles  +the faint

scent of sourmilk    she  a wet-nurse to otters  and the like    ie., his 1st wife

he would agree that he loves me  for my bitchy  urban-queen  vibes  though as a

child i wandered ravines   chased wildducks   +was chased  by lostboys  +a future

matricidal maniac   in a Javelin

it seems to me that if there are two norths (!)  you never have certainty about where

you really are   so  STOP  microplanning  everysinglefuckingminute  of your existence

eat the worm   sleep rough   seduce many Gods

it beats aimless success

+the worship of mammon

__

..it does?..

Spring  2024  ..L’Chaim..

NOT SO MELLOW YELLOW

my bros want more cheerful poems  + have suggested daffs

the latin word for daffodils is: narcissus  but there is no latin

equivalent for:  kiss my ass  or  gay kucken offen yom  

it’s not that i’m angry at them   i understand   these poems can burn

rust off a car  but what about food  for the human soulhole?  all verdigris

+mold   from a general lack of  free   (+freedom is  not   just another word)

the smart existentialists say: always act through the fantasy of freedom

lest we be nothing more than passive playthings of an indifferent universe

+ capricious gods   

these poems are  wordy

freedomfighters

+that ain’t always  pretty 🌻

i have been acting out the  existential rebellion  since 3   no  seriously

always attempting to remove clammyfingers  from my arm  ie., back

away from the curly haired girl  or i will bite the hand that feeds  jails me

and i still will  though now with teeth   not quite as securely fastened

Narcissus  (also the son of a greek river god)  was a celebrated beauty

arrogant+selflove   dripping

i have known a few of these  all dying inside   i would rather chase  free

than my  withering physiognomy   beauty the ravaged whore   a lifetime

of  devouring me

__

..i am dying on the outside  all cellmutation+dribble.. inching closer to 

the  GREAT WIDE OPEN.. as the inside explodes with   grit  colour    +

ecstatic confessions of the highest order..

SPRING 2024       ..let my people go..

the old grey mare she ain’t what she used to be

i patted the ground  and told her: you can do it!

she  who’d been dead for mere weeks  you can do it!

you can be dead   with aplomb   with grace

with the fabulous jewellry +sunglasses  we buried you with

(i didn’t realize we couldn’t bring them back up   EVER

until it was too late) but you need them to enter those  pearly gates

the takeaway guy  Mordecai  was worried about graverobbers

+started spouting ancient Egyptian liturgy   at which point

i hoofed him

it was quite a scene   you 5 foot ten   M. 4 foot 3   and he  thought

he could lift you   up up up   onto a gurney with wings  gore    at

that point   you hoofed him   and gave him   that  laugh

the one that drips of: you don’t even have a real job!  u consummate 

loser!  you bum!   touch me + i bruise you   don’t touch me  + i bruise 

you   anyway

stay away from the dead lady

maven  +repose-rictus

leave the deadalone  go on +get a real job!  an education  +a cleanjacket

ie., not from  Ayla Kebetzka’s yorn    my kids left me in this  shithole    all

Moishe Zukhanim    +tea like pishuchtz

__

..my family makes the hottest tea! ..

Spring 2024  ..April 4th 100..kicking butt in heaven..

GHOSTBUSTER BLUES

sunrise looks Gershon  Gershon Iskowitz   puffy +springfling

you may think i am heading into the territory of sunshine+daffs🌻

decidedly   NOT

i am reading a book about ghosts + the dead  the spacetime continuum

all  Heisenberg+Einstein   Jacob’s ladder is real  people   the reason we

meet our dead in varying states of decompose is:

we all float along the same starlit continuum

the woof+warp  of spacetime  aka  the place where eternity shines   the

pot of gold  bones   at the end of the rainbow  our dead live there as  disembodied

energy-forms   said my most brilliant mentor   a mathematician named Sharansky

he a deadringer for my deadfather  Lee    father complexus+major crush   when

Sharansky  a grizzled 83   he said these things  with great certainty   i’ve always

yearned for grizzled old men   +smiling goats

my father the  GOAT   whose smile  is currently causing mayhem  among

women ghosts   all along the spacetime continuum   today i found a message

in 2 bottles  left by my mother  not so fond of father’s ghostly  sexappeal

apes  i’m still here!   also found this  in the cavity of her   babybluebird  👗

a hairline crack opened to reveal: Fath gowns  Dior hats  +a tiny beating heart

arhythmic+ theremin

APRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

my old bro too  slipped thru a crack  +now dances regularly   in my bedroom

cheshire+smiling   as are all dead football heroes  no longer headsmash+brainfog

father rests on a cloudchaise  making arcane hand signals 🤘🏽

i hear footsteps   and i’m running like hell   not ready for eternity   quite yet

it’s snowing +late March   nary a daffodil in sight   the ground still full  of our

frozendead   who with springthaw  soon to dance on Bathurst St. 💃🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻

___

…mum  we should have hightailed it to Paris ..while you could still run..

SPRING 2024  ..👻🖤 👻

amor fati

now i walk the streets  with your fate  face   who is that girl?

was every morph fatefucked?  but wait  every time you

wrest yourself from  the historyfamilygodotbeast   u fuck with fate

you carve out something that is  NOT  dripping of the

past  the past is not something to flee   it is something to

remake  in your own image  you cannot run  from the    forceps

they drag you here kicking+screaming  bloodied   does

anyone relish arriving?  and yet the moment of death  so

peaceful  +final breath   a thing of great beautymorph

OMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

my visage  her eyes  nose  his hair  cheekbones  but

the piercing  stareglare  firing from my eyes  mine alone

the lightsaber  i use  to burn through   the familydrama

they do not reside inside of you!   only you  reside there

unless praecox   here you are yet again  back at the start

looking for that heritage village  on a lake

so burn your clothes   but not your Kia Soul   as you did

the BMW  eons ago   now same abyss   different car   you are

less fragile  having wrestled with the Reaper  of parents+a bro

an ugly  but well read beast  who spouts Kierkergaard at will

this constant dismemberment+rebuilding   you  a smiling

simpleton-sisyphus    the only home you have/will   ever know

is the one now embedded   in sagggskin+soul

..down in the hole..lingeringly..the gravedigger puts on the forceps..

(Samuel Beckett  Waiting for Godot)

this should  will  free you   from the boulder  lighter now  with

every   asthmabreath  everydeath   every dying angel  vying for

your autograph   I’M ON MY WAY HOME MOTHERFUCKERS!

finally knowing that    HOME    is not a noun   its a verb

___

..my dying mother 4 days before her death   i’m late for the bus!

i’m late for the bus!  where are you going?   i just wanna go home..

Spring 2024   ..be guided by your homesickness..  Steppenwolf+AAC

..life can only be understood backwards..but must be lived forwards..

Kierkergaard

vaginadentata

octogenarian eye doc said:  i ache in places i used to play

a direct Leonard Cohen rip off   keep your viagra emissions

to yourself   old sport

just then his hand fell to my knee  crawling+beady  ultimately

he fingered  my asymmetrical zipper  hidden in folds of fabric+skin

chubbfingers poked   slip of drool at corner of his  croak

now out of his delirium  he shot:  why are you here?    well it’s

the glaucoma  you filthy old geezer   the glauc what??   his digit

sliding   in

OUCHHHHHHH THIS BITCH BITES!

Winter 2024   …almost had its way with us..