Friday, June 17, 2022

Self-Portrait in Rags

By some
    strange
           calculus
    my step
           son Aiden has
become my
               Dad.

~~~
Am I not
         famous?
Google is the
    Pope of
         soft rock.

~~~
Psychiatric disability
      is too strict,
          too tolerant;
Advanced
      Witch
         energy,
I figured you,
      Gonzalez,
         would
               know.

~~~
Wheelchair
    Inaccessible 
           the Clouds
    As they Always
                  Are.

~~~
The Love,
  why can I not
      sing about the
                  Love?
Because they don't 
      sing, I
   can only
             guess.

~~~
Death brings
      the center of
          the tree
  Into focus,
      how everything 
                grows
                out of me.

~~~
Big Daddy
       Bear
Why do you
    cry so
    and never 
        show a
             tear?

~~~
Why am I crying
     for you
          when no tears
     for myself
  Come through
           except as fan,
           as Audience?

~~~
Who are they,
     these Whitney's,
     these Patricia's?
Is it really
         an end
     with no end 
And the fool curse
         of trying?

~~~
I have created
    a Timeline
Where Xerox
       won the
              War.

~~~
Irvine OK?
I have to ask
        my Boss,
Who came by way
          of Rego Park
    and the furthest
               Exurb
                 of Kashmir.

~~~
I can't be
     in the
             collapsing 
                       city,
Showing its dinge 
     as the morning
                    sun
          turns pretty.

~~~
I collect
          whites
    on my
        Notebook
                 arm
    and write
        while Aiden
        recounts 
              how he
        Manifested
              the
              No Worries
          Grim Reaper
                  Last Call 
                      T shirt
A stranger left
                   in his hamper
              after the 100 drunks
      party he threw 
                   when we were
                      out of town
      and not looking.

~~~
I am the
   Primary
      Caregiver,
which became
               the truth
         the moment
      I said it.

~~~
Still, the mesas
      in Alamogordo 
  hold my interest
             more than
      what happens
      in front of me,
  in my bubble.

~~~
Aiden 
      negotiates
         a New Life
   with new skills
         as my old
               skull
    blows its
            cover.

~~~
On Donny
            the
      Magnificent 
  with his New York 
            hiss,
  George C. Patton
         sobriety,
               the scent of
     Jesuit piety --
   how could you fall
         for such a tender
                      trap?

~~~
Kubla Khan
     wasn't 
         written in a day
     like the world,
            so easily
                  undone.

~~~
Is it baseball,
       baseball
           season?
Is it time yet
        for 
             1935?

~~~
The Bengals
     are good,
The Bengals
     have won,
The Bengals
     almost crossed
          the Super-Rubicon
               again;
Cris Collinsworth
     sits disconsolately
           at the 
                bench.

~~~
They way they
     Invisibly
            pounced
       from every tree-
   like TV antennae 
       flashing orange
   in the blue-grey
                 world.

~~~
Year of the Tiger,
   Homage to the one
                 that purrs,
   like my ex, when
        she was aroused
               to be
                   cautious ...
  Oh how you
               honor
        the brave,
the word
     said right.

~~~
This plotline works
      because everyone 
   knows where it's 
                           going,
Art's surprises 
      are the only
               predictable 
      part of life.

~~~
Brian Wilson
      in the Sand,
the name of the 
               book
    I'm supposed
               to write,
On Dunhill
    and the Gold Star
         abduction
             ascension.

~~~
I have not
    been not
    a Scholar,
most particularly
             when my
             Scholarship
   is all made up,
       immaculate,
             authoritative,
                     precise.

~~~
So many
    ways to be a Writer
           back in the day
When the doors were locked
                         and now
           there are no doors,
                    no place to
                               lock
    except in a library
            of light and
                     treasured ruins.

~~~
The COVID gift
             that keeps on
                     giving,
that you can 
             live your life
    and never have
                    to leave
             your porch.

~~~
Many are bass-played,
             Few are
                      Bass,
The full bottom
     glass boat
                 translation 
to heart frequencies
         where we live
                      alone.

~~~
I was just trying
          to be accurate,
I would never talk like that
                     of course 
          in tones so
                  unhindered
Where we cope with the rope
                  to which we are
         tethered.

~~~
She believes
     that she is
                fat
       and presto
     she is fat
and no diet
     will visit her home
          and leave her
              in peace.

~~~
The Bearers of
          The Truth
   as much absorb
        as explain
When so few are listening,
        when one has to
              understand.

~~~
The Superworm lady
        was so darned cute
I had to get the
                   frozen rats
        despite my vow
                 not to.

~~~
Miles pee'ed off the hotel
                         balcony,
Cindy Jr. set her house
                 on fire,
Mike Jr. will pull out a gun
     if you dare point out
                 he was not
          the bass player
                          of Sublime,
And then there are
                  the crazy ones,
like Hanna, muse
              of my
                         darkness.

~~~
All politics are 
               local
But the mind
            is not,
    no matter
        how much
                       incense
            was spread.

~~~
They back off, in time,
                 the tyrants,
When we get tired of them,
        tired of opposing
                           a demon
and supporting the clean
                city hall
                        candidate
        who does not know
              what bang flash
                   or truthbomb 
                         is.

~~~
The quickest way
     to a Middle-Aged man's
                   heart
          is through his
               Nostalgia.

~~~
Yet the only sign
     that we are Gods
To those who go
                after us
Are the photos
         they find
                    of us
     in 1970's clothes.

~~~
The Raven feathers
         flutter through the
                     air
              as the door
                     slams --
Something always
                                falls,
     Gonzalez,
         into the darkness.

~~~
Arizona, 
        where all 
             my conundrums 
                        end
        and all roads
                       lead
     to ascend
         in the deadly 
                           sky.

~~~
Raptures of
        the Afternoon
Open and then close
          like lungs breathing;
    There is always more to do
          to get away from
                     speculation.
       He who is self-conscious
                           is lost.