Another One Waking Up

“And if I seem to be unkind,

it’s only me it’s not my mind 

that is confusing things.” John Lennon

Big sleep last night better than usual

waking feeling “genki” Japanese word

meaning “just right” rather rare lately 

given fear of death I can’t seem to get

rid of/following me like a petulant child

into the sweet spot of rainy season cool

air, so there’s that lying in bed late the

old urge to get up lingers though I really 

have no where to go nothing to do I could

just wait for the night again right here but

that just won’t do.

Whatever it is that’s bothering me I’ve

written about already/just repeat myself 

like all the wheel analogies going round

and round/hey, what’s that oh just something 

I’ve seen before like the Civil War/ not that

again haven’t we been through this before

you bet we have so why be so surprised at

what you can’t change like the inevitable 

march of time/remember the March of Dimes?

I wonder if they ever got where they were

going/probably not just another scam like all

the other slick willies that lift and drop a

question on your plate/so easy to lose one’s 

way in the world because of the ways of the

world but let’s not talk about that now because 

I feel like getting up so I will.

…maybe I’ll just continue rather than start over

more like life isn’t it? So my teacher was on 

retreat and spent a lot of time in bed seemingly 

not there/not in his body his attendants took care

of him/wondering/so when he came back/ woke

up they asked him what he had been doing 

wouldn’t you? and he said he had been 

“remolecularizing” which gave them something 

to think about for sure/not that they didn’t have

enough already.

The walls are closing in, so the only way I can

give myself space is to shrink, get smaller…all

I can do is give clues you have to figure it out

for yourself anyway, hey, Buddhism, there’s one,

not to pontificate, no profit in that, I just write 

when I feel like it, no other motivation that I’ve

discovered, though sometimes I make myself

smile, wouldn’t you? That’s a phrase I stole from

Burroughs…he wasn’t enlightened…he wanted

to take a typewriter on retreat, but was only allowed 

pen and paper…interesting, no? I asked Anne

Waldman if she’d teach me and she said: “I won’t 

go easy on you.” and I thought: “Fuck that, I already

have a job…I don’t need another one.” So, I write

like this….how am I doing so far? I knew it would

never make me rich it’s my bodhisattva activity

pointing at the moon clues upon clues within clues

if you catch the drift up to you I still feel good the

way the day started which is why there are so many

words I don’t talk to people this way because they

already think I’m crazy no need to add or confirm 

and they don’t have much to say…coffee now and

three cigarettes because I’m poor and contracting,

but it’s better to get a little of something good than 

nothing at all and better to get nothing at all than

something bad that’s the middle way..I stopped at

a new place a little hole in the wall two quesadillas 

first time I’m trying the place if the food doesn’t 

make me sick I’ll come back (process of elimination)

it’s cheap at least so that’s in line…my writing is

like taffy extruding I cut it off at some arbitrary point

I’ve only written one poem for my whole life, there is

really only one poem one song called the song of life.