Monthly Archives: November 2013

Junk Science

Corporate media “science” spew piles up–
rusting slag beyond a rumor of reason.

Where are the countering voices of real scientists,
those purring cylinders full of sleek piston light?

Journal Entry November 20, 2013

The Army has finished burning the nerve gas stored at the Umatilla army munitions depot in the eastern Oregon desert and is now dismantling the incinerator.

The earth covered concrete storage bunkers still dot the land like burial mounds from a long disappeared race that happens to be ourselves. The fact that we have emptied our own tombs gives me hope.


Highway Coyote

On the side of gorge highway–
Animal control was there already
To pick up the body.

The coyote your great uncle
Saw down by the river — this one was bigger–
A rolling shiver of grey brown menace
When it wanted to be
Or a loving scout dad on other days.

A thirteen wheel truck probably got him
On his night lope home.
One more dash across the night highway.
He’d done it a hundred times
On the way back home,
Same as you.

Could have been you.
But it was him.

This time.

Your True Guide

Your true guide drinks from an
undammed stream.


What to Tell the Literalist Aliens When They Arrive

We hang paintings to punish them.

Missing someone means we won’t next time.

Dry humor and wet humor cancel each other out.

We sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” at ball games to remind ourselves why we went to a ball game.

If something is sent from heaven it means we like it because the return shipping is very expensive.

Quarreling With Ourselves

“Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.”

-William Butler Yeats