The Flags of Our Dispositions

Some talk again about the end of this world but yr rapture might not be his rapture & maybe he’ll be happy as hops to see you go. Kneel, stand, or dodge the show weekend TV questions for the status quo diversion plays reductio ad absurdum the flags of our dispositions. More disposed to please…

Starting with No

Starting out at nine in search of yes watches synched to 21:00 another night problem to hug and home by one. Starting out at no thing was ever what it seemed to be the toilet by the back gate not plant pot nor art. Starting out ending up in the same place it might have been…

Center of Totality

Between you and the solarium this hottest of summer mornings cools a path across the countryside an eye floater moon receding in the salt tide of shrunk space as you wait in your circle rooted in angst for the darkness to dissolve. What old fear draws you here to this perfect sphere, the moon you…

The Beauty of Prayer

The beauty of prayer is anywhere, pewless, without candle or book or holy water. We can pray in a mall or in the stall on our way or off the wall. Even just the wish to pray, Thomas Merton says, is a gift of great grace. Pray at work, pray at play. Thich Nhat Hanh…

A Country Western Song, 90 Miles Inland

I saw you come and fell to my knees, waves opened and mermaids sang, Oh, Lord, this boy’s in love. You opened your mouth, and my tongue swam in, church bells rang about living in sin, Oh, Lord, this boy’s in love. At the altar somewhat late, the flowers turned to wine. Suit and tie,…

Body Talk

Mr. Body awoke feeling poky. “It’s your diet,” Mrs. Body sd. “I eat the same crap as everybody.” “Just as you say.” “What are those gold chains about their necks all about?” “True that. Tiffany’s on steroids.” “What are the qualities of good plumbing?” “You don’t hear the pipes growling in the walls.” “No leaks,…

The Phenomenology of Error

The Phenomenology of Error[i] A solo Mission at the Ranger Station before group poetry night, hoping for a good napkin poem. When we read like police we make a criminal[ii] shot with red pencil corrections, the poet apprehended, booked. Pull over the rotting rhymester! Handcuff this conceptualist clown. Arrest that academic asshole. Ticket the doggerel…

Summer Notes: 7 – Shoeless

Discalced order of children running aground barefoot, the beach sand so hot we flip flopped like fish out of the water close at hand. When you did not know what a thing was, you gave it a name, then you knew it. Flip-flops went everywhere, named for their sound, rubber sole held to the front…

Summer Notes: 6 – Vinyl Eve

Ray on Polly & Ester over Shell lack, the beach so far It’s a Beautiful Day for the Blues. His story film earlier Text I’ll yarn Den I’m hep Woe vane All dyed felting. More hair Flee C Mad as a more curious hatter, a chord eon.

Summer Notes: 5 – A Blues

In the morning, when the sun comes up In the morning, when the sun comes up In the morning, when the sun comes up Give thanks for this cup of coffee. In the evening, when the sun goes down In the evening, when the sun goes down In the evening, when the sun goes down…

Summer Notes: 4 – Water

These awkward weedy notes of summer, they steal water from the subtle artful crafty ones, the ones crammed with food and hose drenched, and yes, fruit-bearing they’ll be, and well spent. The mollycoddle promises a bumper crop this year, but what will be done with it all? They can can the coddle, bottle the molly,…

Summer Notes: 3 – The Morning Nap

Catnap back to wind-sun rush kick in the eye fire-worked over street cools quiet hush Grace comes with natural light patches of prayer breezes in the hither and thither of dry leaves palms up elbows open frazzled knees and a calico cat in green sky white bells crawls over out door cot jumps through square…