I Watched The Vodka Flow From The Bottle

Into the glass and wondered

oh, yes, that now, 

what would come together

in my mind of vodka, raga, 

storm outside.

The vodka went down

in the bottle, up

in the glass…and,

it was only me to 

determine  the universe.

I did, like endless times before…

finding my place evident wherever

I was. That’s the only reason I’ve

lived this long….not a complaint, 

or, a wail. I’ve watched my life flow

from bottles and everything else 

enough, so, I go along with it to prevail.

Getting All Excited About A Very Limited Venue

You could say the Twentieth Century,

Or, your life right now….

it’s scalable…..unless,

you’re into the cosmic….

the overwhelming question.

But, let’s not talk about that now…..

Getting all excited….

about what?

If you actually sat down

and had a cup of tea and

looked at your life….you 

might think “what for?”

What do you imagine you 

will encounter at the end 

of your swimming upstream?

Where did you acquire the idea

you are going on? 

You can always start over……

easier when you’re younger.

Start over many times!

Don’t think you’ve found yourself

until you recognize what you are!

There's not much time left,

whatever that is.

Love Poem

Confession

When I first met you, with B. ,

in Boston, you were so beautiful

you frightened me.

You don't scare me now, but,

I still love you for all the same 

reasons.

Guest post Daniel Dragomirescu "Cosmic"

Cosmic

Our journey is cosmic-
you know – not about us really -
that’s silly.
Cosmic,
beyond about what we think of -
know of -
time.

We connect – share in the most 

beautiful intimate relationships 

& experiences – colors – 

emotions as dramatic and 

spectacular as any beyond 

the envelope carnival ride –

& then disconnect - & float – 

fly – fade – or die –

and all those tethers that held us –

loved us – cared or neglected us –

disappear

songs half sung
lines unwritten
remain so.

What song was that?

Doesn’t matter.

Whose life was that?

What life?

What love?

What wife?

Is it Tuesday?

Okay.

Oh: and we’re almost out of time.

Whatever that is.

A Woman Is A Symphony, A Man Is A Stick Of Dynamite

It’s all about sex.

Light a man’s fuse, and he explodes.

A woman needs several movements

to get into the mood for the crescendo, and,

then, there’s the denouement…the man 

already asleep in his ashes by that point.

It’s all about fire, combustion… you need

the right heat for life to cook itself up.

Guest post Thomas Liphard "Family"

How come no matter how long since you have seen

the family, or how much distance you put between ya,

they can always push your buttons.

Answer: because they installed 'em.

Thinking

of the murders in the movie theater in Colorado.....

an hundred years ago, a Dadaist poet in Paris

as his performance, fired his revolver into the audience

randomly..  This is how we see the tendrils of the Mandelbrot,

and, where we are as an audience.

Aphorism

You can't tell people the truth.
You have to hold up a mirror.

Patriocracy

It’s a War World.

Like Buddha said

“The world is on fire.”

..and the implants are

coming. Getting shot

in a movie theatre is 

horrible…but, not 

without irony. 

Is there a “lone gunman”

school that all these loonies

are graduating from?

Or, are they just doing their

internships? They’re really

good at it…there must, at 

least, be a book out there,

“Lone Gunmanship for Loonies.”,

I mean, they only get to do it 

once…. how’s come they’re 

all so  successful? And, nobody

helped them so, they must have

figured it all out for themselves,

these hallucinating psychopaths…

sure…that makes sense…AHEM!

But I’m a PATRIOT!  So!  One man!

One gun! One magic bullet! All for One!

And One for None! Anybody feeling 

stoopid yet?

The Ship

The one that will take me

(sure, this is a fantasy)

bound for out there

with a great cabin and

an oak bar lounge I can

hang out in while the world

swirls by in it’s oceans of 

grandeur….writing missives

on the open ocean as the

centers of communication…

the satellites, the towers,

wink out, one by one, `I

afloat, not looking for land

anymore…a pirouette

of what was once before.

Hello (for Bill Knott)

If you are still alive 

when you read this,

move over.

Beef Heartedness (for Captain Beefheart)

Dwelling in that man’s mind

is as if your heart was an 

open sore. Life in situ, before

corrupted by education. It dug

itself out of everydaddy life…

his parents left him to discover.

Beefheart flourished in Mojave.

The desert was his just desert.

He knew he started from bone

and that the flesh just came along.

Aphorism

Wondering about what you should do with your life is  
ignoring that you are already doing something with it.

Centrifuge

It’s all going down the drain…

you can hear it in the music,

the swirling repeating idioms….

elevator music for the apocalypse…

whenever there is a lull 

in the bombing. 

“The faster we go, the rounder we get.”

That was a Grateful Dead trip slogan,

but now it’s even more than true…..

moving so fast the only time we have

is for our devices, which round us off

to the nearest demographic 

or what have you.

Blues Poan

No, you have to explain to me,

I don’t have an answer. I have

to see that you don’t have one 

either.

Drunken Heart

My heart is drunk

with sadness and joy.

Obama is the white elephant

(escaped from the zoo)

in the room.

Joy when I see the gorgeous

world….sad, because…well…

you know.

My heart gets me drunk

makes me dance

holds the memory

of romance.

It’s taken a beating

but, as long as I live,

so does it….and, it’s

never taken any shit.

G'Day

How’s your life, your freedom?

Still looking for it, waiting for it,

planning for it, preoccupied

with it? 

Can you project how much time

in your life you will remain a slave?

Do you think you really have a plan?

Your bars and guards are self made….

that’s always the case, no matter what

dictatorship you find yourself in.

Eden's just another word for something

you can’t lose…misplace, yes…it’s

just a matter of misplacement, as 

Whitehead said..the fallacy of misplaced

concreteness…which about covers it.

You imagine freedom….it’s part of the

mask, part of the concreteness…what 

leads you on. You actually experience

freedom many times for brief moments

that usually piss you off, because you’re

not ready for freedom….if you could be 

set free, you’d probably sue whomever

gave it to you, claiming you were deprived

of your right to be a slave….yes, that’s 

where most of us are now….most of you.

The only one that can give you freedom

is you. That’s why there was an underground 

railroad. That’s why jazz happened. That’s

why I don’t sweat the drones….

…if you care to see where the illusion is, just

watch T.V. and tend the public opinion polls….

what most people think is the source of the

obfuscation…find out where it comes from, if

you want, ’till your sick of it, then let it go.

That’s what I did….but, I’ve been  seeing 

the same (expletive) my whole life…grew up

with it…never believed…deprogrammed

by whatever means…now, I’m back from 

the dead…I have come to tell you all…

I shall tell you all, like a soapbox fanatic

in Washington Square.

The Biggest Criminal Enterprise Of History

The United States Of America…

criminals, that’s all they are,

have taken over the country,

robbing the world and their

own citizens alike.

Worried about a terrorist

with a dirty bomb? You’re

more likely to be shot or

tased by a policeman 

for no reason…much more…

or killed in a false flag

operation…to preserve

what? Moron that later.

Trailer Park Country Western Song Of The Five `Hundred Pound Couch Potato Or Tomato

...lost one getting a drink....

...shorthand for here we are...

..they say it all the time in Vegas...

...listening to Trout Mask Replica adds to the mix...

....I can still be creative as long as I don't try....

...Pakistan is the new Katmandu....

...it's a melting plot....

...the West used to be the best....

...now, it's just the rest......

....Connecticut is a state of mind,

New Jersey is a state of insanity.

It all comes out in the whitewash

that you'll never see blanked by T.V.

It's a white man's wash....still thinking

it's no color superior in some way besides

fucking everything up.  You don't even 

have to brand them. They are the outer 

and inner Brand. Everybody in the world

knows this, for sure, for shame.

My Father Had A Tie

My father had one of those wide ties they wore in the Forties.

It was red, with what looked like filagree in white down it.

When you held it up sideways, it was cursive writing

with a mirror image.

It said  "go piss up a rope.`'

Not Going Down Without A Laugh

I got a few of them already, and,

I am going down. How good is that?

My last words?

No more money!

Ah, the finish line!

Your turn to cry!

I did it!

I did all those bad things

you never could prove!

I was high the whole time!

I made up my whole resume!

I never was a brain surgeon!

I paid for merit badges in 

Boy Scouts!

I saw my mother naked in the

bathtub and thought…”God,

she’s really drunk.”

Ode To Robin Williams

Comedy can be fateful
in large dosages.

Short Story

I was watching a vid

of Dick Cavett with

Woody Allen, them

talking about child 

sexuality 

(oddly enough),

and I tried to think

back on my own

experience. All I can

remember is being in

a Catholic kindergarden,

and pulling up a nun’s 

habit  to see what was 

under there…she hit

me in the head with

a bottle of chocolate

milk. It wasn’t really 

sexual…I was just

curious.

Koan For The Masses

No one is capable
to do an impression of
Robin Williams

Teleporting To Odessa

I’ve never been there,

but, I am there now, in

my mind.  I don’t know why

that place, that name, has

such a hold on me.

Maybe that there was such

a place in the middle of 

civilizations that rose and fell,

like the Big Game from the 

sidelines…smoking hashish

all the way.

That must have been good

for a few laughs, aside from

the tears.

“My shop has been open

for a thousand years…when

things got bad, my family hid…

brought the shop back out once

the conquerers went back to their

mistresses.

I have four hundred year old wine…

I have actual soma from India…

where is history? It’s here!”

I sat on the cushion next to a 

low table…listened to sounds

of the world outside. I felt I

hadn’t wasted my life.

Rain's Coming In

I can see it on the radar on

the computer coming west 

from Veracruz… time enough 

to go out, get a sandwich 

and come back.

I was talking to my friend, L., outside the 

coffee shop this morning, smoking cigarettes. 

L. is a Scot, been around  the world, busted in 

France for selling dope, spent 3 years in  prison 

there, two more in California for making fake 

I.D.s. He said, aside from County, after about 

three months in prison (at least where he was), 

it was just normal life. The punishment was, in 

fact, over. In France, he said, the only thing 

that got talked  away was your liberty. Prisoners 

were treated like human beings. He had a list, 

once a week, where he would check off items he 

wanted, like, tobacco, cheese, cold cuts….

and each person got  a six pack of beer each 

week. I asked him what it was like when

he would be released after he had served his 

sentence. He said  for the first few weeks, it 

was shocking, like Christmas, and delightful
and exciting. Then it became just normal.

I have four rooms, a small 

enclosed yard, a refrigerator 

and a stove. The rain isn’t here

yet…I think I’ll walk outside

and have a cigarette before

the rain comes, then, go inside

and enjoy the thunder…clean

sheets and rain like music.