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.
