"How am I supposed to get ahead in life
if I am constantly effecting repairs?"
Two steps forward one step back?
The blade tip tangs off of a saucer's edge,
Sunbright white apple flesh slips loose
as it withdraws to the cutting board tasks.
"Yes, something like that-"
Don't lick your fingers before we're done.
It's impolite. Plain rude.
"If I have to keep fixing things as they break down
and covering costs, when do I get ahead?"
You don't.
You may, if things break your way.
A short sip of tea and a pink cloth napkin
dabs each side of the wide blade
until it splits the eyes like the
glimmering miniature forks
resting beside the disks and wedges of
dewy juice sweating fruits
inside each saucer.
"That's stupid."
Is it? Maybe 'getting ahead' means
living comfortably. Where are you trying to get to?
"A place where I don't have to fix things all of the time."
We should probably get some sugar cubes out,
the tea is a little too dry.
"A place where I can have nicer things.
Reliable things. New things!"
A short slurp and a little cough.
A bumble bee printed cigarette case
serves as a cup rest. "You're right,"
"it is a bit dry." Chairs rattle and groan
against warming morning patio cement.
"I'm tired of being poor."
Being poor or feeling poor?
'Getting ahead' for you, for me,
may only amount to advancing life one more day,
one more week. Things will always need fixing.
They will always break down, new and old.
Be glad that you are able to and imagine
where you would be
if you couldn't. At least now all you need
is a little luck.
A lawnmower coughs and dies. Cusses drift
up and up and mute
into the hiss and swish of tree leave's
sway and gossip. Birds resume
their afternoon plans.
"Getting ahead in life..."
You don't. I don't. Not in the way you're thinking.
The best you'll do is a vacation here and there.
Maybe a car or two and a house. You'll feel poor then too.
Apple slice snaps in a toothy smile,
chewed vigorously before a miniature fork clatters
to a saucer face.
Have patience. Your day will come for you
and it will either be the day you get what you want
or the day you realize you already had it.
original works of parts
Null
A willingness to give up means
you know
the world.
I will lose a You have never slept
finger before I better than the first day
kill again. you fixed an ultimatum.
How swell would it be What had happened was.
to lose a tooth to me. Allow me to clarify.
Can I borrow an earring? Can I eat your face?
As long as you're dead, the fuck's the difference.
Park in an empty lot and who are you
lining your wheels to asphalt paint for?
Heart beats sound amazing. There is a fire,
The only thing more being small inside the wreck.
the click of the load of "heart." Two hands to cup air & blow.
Spin the chamber giggle giggle Savages, savages, ALL!
giggle fuss. How long were you Set coordinates.
breast fed? Set fear aside. Adjust clothing.
The stars are beautiful. The moon keeps driving by our house real slow.
With both barrels, fade summer.
In the mean time, cherry tomaters greet when work ceases.
Brown grass becomes a mirror and naps prickly.
Windows close and shades during the day.
We gossip and chant and the sun
blushes. Mars and I still
quipping about his heavy handed ways.
Today? Sure.
A limb? No.
A digit? Yes.
To feel alive. Less than that. I am more than the sum of my parts.
How can I prove it to you?
The sun stares in; The moon glimmer is undeniable.
glare and sharp and Stand up. Please, sit down.
wet spectrum. I brought cookies and they will
not soften themselves in cups.
Allow me to pour the tea
wayfarer.
you know
the world.
I will lose a You have never slept
finger before I better than the first day
kill again. you fixed an ultimatum.
How swell would it be What had happened was.
to lose a tooth to me. Allow me to clarify.
Can I borrow an earring? Can I eat your face?
As long as you're dead, the fuck's the difference.
Park in an empty lot and who are you
lining your wheels to asphalt paint for?
Heart beats sound amazing. There is a fire,
The only thing more being small inside the wreck.
the click of the load of "heart." Two hands to cup air & blow.
Spin the chamber giggle giggle Savages, savages, ALL!
giggle fuss. How long were you Set coordinates.
breast fed? Set fear aside. Adjust clothing.
The stars are beautiful. The moon keeps driving by our house real slow.
With both barrels, fade summer.
In the mean time, cherry tomaters greet when work ceases.
Brown grass becomes a mirror and naps prickly.
Windows close and shades during the day.
We gossip and chant and the sun
blushes. Mars and I still
quipping about his heavy handed ways.
Today? Sure.
A limb? No.
A digit? Yes.
To feel alive. Less than that. I am more than the sum of my parts.
How can I prove it to you?
The sun stares in; The moon glimmer is undeniable.
glare and sharp and Stand up. Please, sit down.
wet spectrum. I brought cookies and they will
not soften themselves in cups.
Allow me to pour the tea
wayfarer.
Smoker 54
It is possible to shed tears on command
as flares to attract missiles.
Do you have a light?
I remember my back pocket.
I am asking you, makeup waterfalls
at corners of mouth.
Stomp the remains into concrete.
Pull another and flame kiss nose.
Around the corner
they are waiting and the pearls begin to form.
Laugh, head far enough out to smack a street sign
while we drive;
clear up my eyes, cotton breeze.
Embers in our 45 mile per hour wake.
as flares to attract missiles.
Do you have a light?
I remember my back pocket.
I am asking you, makeup waterfalls
at corners of mouth.
Stomp the remains into concrete.
Pull another and flame kiss nose.
Around the corner
they are waiting and the pearls begin to form.
Laugh, head far enough out to smack a street sign
while we drive;
clear up my eyes, cotton breeze.
Embers in our 45 mile per hour wake.
Fall, Come Soon
There is a mountain of snow
behind the glen of automobile bones.
Grass need tamped down
with dancing feet
beneath the beating sun.
Hot, hot without shoes and
it was on fire when I laid down and
pressed my cheek to iron. The ghost things
brushed my arms when the wind blew.
Dandelion thoughts. Ticklish
always. Giggle and try not to sweat
in the shadow of the beast.
It will all be glass soon.
The other shoe will drop and
shatter the reflections behind my eyelid.
The glare in the eye
I keep open while I sleep.
The sound of return of the painted dinosaur
is a lot like the sound of a shell
dropped at one's feet
on a toenail,
managing to skit away
to hit find its clack against an ocean polished rock.
Cymbal crash and sand
stand watch while tears roll
down my face to caress
the corners of my lips
beneath the hair.
The sun beats
and the waves speak
and people disappear one by one along the march.
The ship makes friends with the sky.
The clouds shake hands.
Jellyfish die.
The shell remains.
Near toes. To pick it up, to hear.
Already hot enough to burn fingertips to history and
laugh. Scorn. Who can I hurt? Come play with me,
from the deep the beach vibrates with a whale song.
behind the glen of automobile bones.
Grass need tamped down
with dancing feet
beneath the beating sun.
Hot, hot without shoes and
it was on fire when I laid down and
pressed my cheek to iron. The ghost things
brushed my arms when the wind blew.
Dandelion thoughts. Ticklish
always. Giggle and try not to sweat
in the shadow of the beast.
It will all be glass soon.
The other shoe will drop and
shatter the reflections behind my eyelid.
The glare in the eye
I keep open while I sleep.
The sound of return of the painted dinosaur
is a lot like the sound of a shell
dropped at one's feet
on a toenail,
managing to skit away
to hit find its clack against an ocean polished rock.
Cymbal crash and sand
stand watch while tears roll
down my face to caress
the corners of my lips
beneath the hair.
The sun beats
and the waves speak
and people disappear one by one along the march.
The ship makes friends with the sky.
The clouds shake hands.
Jellyfish die.
The shell remains.
Near toes. To pick it up, to hear.
Already hot enough to burn fingertips to history and
laugh. Scorn. Who can I hurt? Come play with me,
from the deep the beach vibrates with a whale song.
Murder The Universe
Driving gloves no longer stick to the steering wheel
the way they did in summers past and
snot slicks it up and the radio buttons glisten
with thumb prints and the dash streaks
underneath street lamps passed by where
boogers and boogie men got smeared.
Practice come live; before panic breaks down
walls of reality and we all mash steel drum lips
to sound more human and who is who
when the rain falls on all of us and
the sound trickles in to our ears as
a cacophony of concussions with each one
reaching one before a drum stick has landed.
Fuck you, this is my planet, wait.
It is not, this is your fucking planet.
Janus? Gemini? Gnaw. Circling a dog star.
All born the same with passions the same
wills the same converted into expressions
of peace and rest that get misinterpreted
into statements of war and rust and gusto.
Head, shoulders, knees, and toes to sanity
let's go ahead and clip the profanity.
Fuck you. What did I just say?
Remember the planet on which we could all play?
I don't. I'm not a prophet and I'm always ready
to get up off it. Build the ships
and I'll start a new colony.
This one is dying and I'm glad to be a rat.
I wasn't invested. Galaxies is where I'm at.
Hibernate and I'll time travel with you,
when you wake I'll be happy to wake too.
Star scapes mean a lot more now.
When you're ready, I'll hold your hand
and move town.
the way they did in summers past and
snot slicks it up and the radio buttons glisten
with thumb prints and the dash streaks
underneath street lamps passed by where
boogers and boogie men got smeared.
Practice come live; before panic breaks down
walls of reality and we all mash steel drum lips
to sound more human and who is who
when the rain falls on all of us and
the sound trickles in to our ears as
a cacophony of concussions with each one
reaching one before a drum stick has landed.
Fuck you, this is my planet, wait.
It is not, this is your fucking planet.
Janus? Gemini? Gnaw. Circling a dog star.
All born the same with passions the same
wills the same converted into expressions
of peace and rest that get misinterpreted
into statements of war and rust and gusto.
Head, shoulders, knees, and toes to sanity
let's go ahead and clip the profanity.
Fuck you. What did I just say?
Remember the planet on which we could all play?
I don't. I'm not a prophet and I'm always ready
to get up off it. Build the ships
and I'll start a new colony.
This one is dying and I'm glad to be a rat.
I wasn't invested. Galaxies is where I'm at.
Hibernate and I'll time travel with you,
when you wake I'll be happy to wake too.
Star scapes mean a lot more now.
When you're ready, I'll hold your hand
and move town.
Shomurai
Leather laced.
Metal plate.
Sun down to sun up.
Glance and live.
Wink and die.
Battlecries form and
sink between lenses,
leash and dice held firm
while the links have to go.
No time to mourn
while the blessings let,
eventually they'll learn
six deep under stone.
Leather laced metal plate
and honed,
blade synchronized to
flesh and bone.
Metal plate.
Sun down to sun up.
Glance and live.
Wink and die.
Battlecries form and
sink between lenses,
leash and dice held firm
while the links have to go.
No time to mourn
while the blessings let,
eventually they'll learn
six deep under stone.
Leather laced metal plate
and honed,
blade synchronized to
flesh and bone.
Smoker 53
In the musicals
we toe and heel
rip razors through cement
tandem and dual and duel
through corners.
Clouds in our wake.
Cylinders burn
and discs glow bright
and you will hear us
before we are seen
and smell us
long after we are gone.
we toe and heel
rip razors through cement
tandem and dual and duel
through corners.
Clouds in our wake.
Cylinders burn
and discs glow bright
and you will hear us
before we are seen
and smell us
long after we are gone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)