Tuesday, August 5, 2008

does the cat recognize that i'm pissing
(when he looks at me- penis in my fingertips,
straight stream of urine from it to the toilet water)?
does he think- that's like what i do,
only different
oh, there was a girl out of place at a crazy intersection.
she came from a nearby business, crossing a nothing landscape strip
that separates one pool of asphalt from another,
stood at the corner.
she tapped her foot just a bit (there had to be some small amount of self consciousness)
then set her eyes to a downcast glance to nowhere
she had her cellphone in her hand, but didn't use it as a crutch
and i felt so glad.
after all,
i don't want to forget the way people used to wait.
today i noticed the jingling of my keys again,
and recalled a time when i feared my level of perceptiveness
would drive me to insanity or death
it is like cartoon sound
floating arcs proceeding towards me in marching succession
and, like curved, pre-fabricated metal,
they fit to my thighs, my calves, the parts of my legs
and stay for an instant before they dissolve into me
and the next one comes.
i've fowled the air
and have serious fears of limb amputation.
it's 5am and i made myself get up and write this
heading easterly now with lunar landscape
and light lifted head
headlights take to strobing
when they fall below the guardrail,
chopped up by its steadfast, sentinel supports.
in the distant darkness on some small country road,
four cars are spaced perfectly apart
and their headlights seem like some magical
mechanical apparatus
and for some reason
i imagine it doomed to become an artifact.
happiness is the words
i read on the page
that warble and flicker,
losing their opacity in random flutters,
blending into the page
all because i just stared briefly into the sun.
they're alive and playing with me
because the whole world does things like this
when it knows you've pulled back some secret fold
in its real world fabric to stop in for a stay in that elusive state
that makes you forget days
and all you ways

Saturday, June 14, 2008

a sad thought occurred to me-
that i might wear away absorbing all these other people's experiences,
like a marble staircase succumbs to deformation from the millions of footfalls 
all in the same place, day after day

this is quickly replaced by a sweet, subtle happiness
that these gifts will be mine for the taking
as long as i remain receptive

Everything In The Past Two Days

to hate someone for giving you the greatest feeling in your life,
this makes sense now

the receptionist women from the doctors office,
coming from the convenient store next door
a daily ritual, they enter the random landscaped void
that often exists between businesses in our contemporary world
clumsily framed in a forest scene, walking down the grassy slope
it is words beyond beautiful

sometimes in one instant,
i travel through every single person's brain on this planet
as one gently dips a foot in a swimming pool
just to know

i shuddered with nerves on a drive to a new person
because... i really don't know
because i don't need anyone new, and i went ahead anyway?
because she is beautiful?
because it reassured my recklessness?
i usually give up my life, toss it on the telephone wires

i sat up in bed and stared straight ahead to the far wall,
paused, and then gave a nod to the invisible unknowns filling up the space,
indecipherable to me because i just need a few more lifetimes of visual development

because every year i see more than the one just departed
and if time and attention sat opposite one another on a teeter-totter,
the choir of angels would melt and be mute
and sunlit rays would break from the clouds
only this time, as support beams for all the unimaginable beings
with arms around our shoulders
as we suffocate in containers stuffed with cotton
last night, i had strange dreams
and today, the rain came down like a joke

i've been awful tired lately
it might be about time i qualify for twenty seven

if you think i'll spend my life like you, richard, i'll learn to make do

but in secret, i'll solicit unsolitary scripts
with carousels 
and moving trams
a banging screen door 
saluting its counterpart- the threadbare mat

still, it seems growing old 
means getting used to being
more alone 
klaus kinski was not a human being
he made no attempt to be a part of society

all that felt right was to use himself to manipulate
what he had a good sense of

he could twitch a muscle in his face that had more dimension and personality
than your neighbor

no, he was no human
and he stayed only to give the unsteady a taste of what was possible if you just took the plunge,
throw away the everyday, cast off, accept your lot

save us all
today i told an old man dowser
that i would be settling down

i looked around around around
on the toilet
and my quite mind and morning eyes taking note of my languid arm
lying there across my thighs
it is dead and grotesque 
a freakish arm of a famine victim in a photograph in a far away land

it cannot be of my body
i do not feel it there
with its long, light- black hairs
patterned, sweeped in the same direction like grass on a hillside after a rain

and some white residue like salt stains on winter sidewalks
and the grayish looking rises that hint of the mess all below, inside

but it's the length, the proportions
it's too long, like a section was spliced in

i wipe myself and flush the toilet
and my mind gets sharper
as it will as i awake further
and go have a day
something like:
my life is like the clouds out the window of a plane
you want to look out and forever be enthralled
but then you get tired, sit back and close your eyes
and dream those clouds more fanciful than reality
the trees all have a hint of malice.
you can sense their willingness to let time slowly pass,
to which, when the chance finally arrives,
they will overtake the constructs of our civilization
in an overgrown surge of nonchalance
america is going down the drain.
in my city, more deaths than days of the year

art is bad.
people feel pressured to do it, 
when really they should be interacting with each other,
nurturing beautiful relationships that make you feel
tremendous and stupendous.
those are the real works of art.

The Garnerer

i want you to imagine that this song is like 
you were somehow able to collect all the sounds
occurring on the entire planet in some sort of vessel.
and starting right now, let the collecting begin-
an infinite instant compiling caused an unimaginable explosion.
the world is getting larger don't you know.
it's true- i am no one.
i am water,
shape-shifting, directionless.
i will be whatever person  i need to be.
this scares me.

my essence has nothing to do
with stability or the commonplace.
i guess i should learn this.
time for more wandering, then.
This is it- the feeling of a never ending stream of information flowing marvelously into my mind, creating kaleidoscopic oceans and sense-shifting motions- all of the highest order of beauty, pleasantness, everything.