Old Stuff

I used to get so high
                    (we did)
If I could get high
               like that again
O, how well I could write
     lines and phrases
     juxtapositions
that were as
               mindbendingly flexible
               as the yoga master’s torso
A minor chuckle
would last for five minutes.
               Did we smoke more then?
               Was the stuff better?
               Did we not worry as much
                    about money or jobs?
Maybe all that,
          maybe none.
Or maybe the creator
has always known about grass
            & finally said,
               OK, I’ll give them a millon
               brain cells for grass.
But once they go through those,
that’s it.

Novels & Things

          Did you do a lot
                    of coke when you
were young?
                              me neither
All those girls are
           learning.

                         A tight ass
                         in correct jeans

          the right CD,
                    the right music

     for what we’re doin today
          people talking
          my wife stackin
                    the netflix queue

                              the netflix cat
                              kicked a dildo down the street
                              for what reason I don’t know

there it is,
          there it is

          the pen,
                    my friend’s
                              gray hair

at this particular party
I’m
     just sittin here
     just lisn’n
     2 these 2 girls
          talk about
          novels & things

                              It’s peaceful here:
                              not to know the chaos of other rooms?
          they
          know not
          to bother me while I’m writing
                              about mardi gras:

                    soakin up beads
                    drowning in twenties
                    throwin out nothin
                                                       but tits

     the toilets are clean
     they’ve never been cleaner


                    Everyone out there talking
                              is a roar in my ear
                         ringing it like
                              the smoke of everyone I know
                              and how I knew them today

A gun to the head—
          what’s wrong w/ that?

          I’ll get a job in the firm of
          Hemingway, Thompson, & Randall

     Getting off o’the elevator with my friends
     I’ll show them my office saying

                    there it is, there it is
                    the pen, the pin
                    my friend’s gray hair

For hours now we’ve been saying
          “it’s still early”

                              But I think I’ll be going
                              I’m getting drunker than I thought
                              drunker than plans
                              drunker than the Trust allows

matt blunt,
                    roll me a fat one

                    that’s what was wrong w/
                              my band experience

                              all the teachers I cried in front of,
                              none of them knew what to do.

Hey, don’t take all the things
                    I owned of you
          those are the things I wanted,
                     and I’ll be needing them for that

          ass in correct jeans,
          the girls still learning,

          me just sittin here
          lisn’n those 2 girls
          talk ‘bout
          novels & things.

How Much Does It Cost To Send A Postcard To Iraq?

I said     Iraq
                    I say it so it reminds me of—
                    or, so that it rhymes
                    with a rock
          one too heavy to throw.
                    So I contract its lift
          but still insurgent fists
                    throw wrapping,
                                        victorious
                                        paper.

I knew I should’ve gone with scissors
                                        skizzers
           or even
                                        anti-skizzer skizzers

I say, What’s the matter with you, Ira       q?
Can’t you see I need you?
Me, one of the thousands of
                    quiet praying Americans
                    praying, not preying, I promise
Work democracy
          work dammit!
Work or where am I
          gonna run to
          when the battle comes here
                    These are   lonely     lonely      lonely
                                           days         days         days

So I said
So I said
   I said I’ve lost my love for you Iraq
I’m gettin ready to leave you Iraq

                    And so what if
                    the derricks go limp
                    flapping in the desert bane
                    like dollar bills, no—   like a fourth option:  tears
                    tossed in celebration
                    from our fruitless, fleeing plane.

children's books

by chinball wizard

If the world was crazy,
would that old
          soothsayer,
stone-telling chester the silver fish
still speak the forgotten language?
           The generals don’t think so,
just me, just me standing
the one who stayed with Melinda Mae
          and the little blue engine that was afraid of the dark.
          Hungry mungry,
my beard is merry
           and the search…

Good Morning, Bright Eyes

I try to validate
my decrepitation
     my crapitation
on a clear morning
when my body is
a rummage sale
of twenty-five-cent smoke
and even cheaper ash.
Hemingway wrote in the mornings.
Marvell rubbed pubs to refresh his spirit.
I’m constantly writing
this research-paper life
and, like the lawyer I am,
throwing countless citations
into levees leaky with holes,
hoping something will stick.

Scientific Name

In my low points

          there is yelling

and yellowing,

                    fag-ended curses—

O, monotomous hippopotamus

          why won’t you

                    beach yourself

on the shore of something new?