Monthly Archives: April 2012

Everything’s Wet on the Internet

It’s just words on a page
don’t simper or whimper

nasty is tasty
and wetter is better

than dinner details
or fan boy wails

the smell of rain
on hot cement

compels more
than impudence

Crouching Tiger Woods

Proud Tiger’s lie in the hoary rough
Beneath Augusta’s august boughs
To the mortal eye would bring a tear
Yet the golfing god would acres tear
Until the lie became a slough
And if the slough be not enough
A lake would he plow up and swear
And toss his club, his face a rouge!
His reputation back to steer
To the lie where it lay
Not half so deep,
So beyond repair.

Journal Entry 4/24/12 The Bus Stop

The man with the steel pierced lips leaned against the utility pole by the bus stop smoking. Blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth, he watched the cars on Broadway dart by like tropical fish returning from the feeding grounds. A heavy young woman with Downs Syndrome ate an apple and stared up at the man from her cross-legged perch on the sidewalk. Four number eight buses went by before theirs came. The man patiently waited as the woman got up off the pavement, counted her change and bought a ticket from the driver. “Things could be better, but they could be a whole lot worse,” he said to me, smiling, as he flipped his cigarette into the gutter as he got on the bus behind her.

Elmo’s Bad Day at the Office

How detestable,
how absurd

to be upstaged
by a stupid bird,

thought Elmo
with glum eyes gazing

as the puppeteer smacked him
with a six foot bird wing.

Stone cottage

Masons laid up the basalt for the cottage walls.
Between smoke breaks and beer the skeleton
grew sideways first, then a chimney spine and vertebrae.

The breathing started later–
rasping at first,
then smooth sighs,
finally growling at the end
when the whole thing came down in an earthquake
a hundred years later.

Earth eyes looked up from below
through the masons beer bottle glasses
peering through the rubble
and moldy fever dreams
of a hundred years of nighttime wanderings.