Driving Back From Santa Barbara
I drive past peanut brittle
bones under wild brush
buried. Road work
roaring over the sea
as emerald as ivory.
The shadows
of the trees on pavement
like foam on waves,
the slow-motion flexing
of nature's muscles.
The sun sets like an eyelid
after an unnoticed day.
---
The drive back at night,
the dark ocean, beckons me
with lights on oil rigs.
Calling me to a life on water
spent only looking
at the horizon, not the coast.
The unopened book, my passenger,
is a planet.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Monday, December 30, 2013
Experimental Blues Poem Stanza
Experimental Blues Poem Stanza
Her rent-a-car destroys only the flailing, a snow ordinary yet monetary––
Her rent-a-car destroys a malignant fingerprint, she commentaries,
but extinguishes a quarter of the Michelin Tires I had temporarily.
Her rent-a-car destroys only the flailing, a snow ordinary yet monetary––
Her rent-a-car destroys a malignant fingerprint, she commentaries,
but extinguishes a quarter of the Michelin Tires I had temporarily.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
States
Current States of Language:
Alabama Al: “Lab, am I Alaska? I’ll ask ya if Arizona air is own, yeah? Arkansas are can saw. Los Angeles lozenge all less. Law sand gels us.”
Colorado caller, “Raw Dough:” Connecticut can neck tick cut?
“Delaware aware” – Adele. “Florida floored a floor, duh. Georgia a gorgeous gorge, George.”
“Hawaii, huh? Why? Eee! Idaho? I don’t know.”
“Illinois ill onion in Indiana,” Windy Anna, “Iowa eye. Oh… wha–? Kansas can sass, can Kansas? Kentucky can tuck key, can’t’ya key?”
Louisiana Lu: “Easy Anna. Maine, may’n Maryland mare, a lend? Massachusetts masses chews, sits. Master, choose zits.”
Michigan Misha: "Gain. Minnesota men is soda."
“‘Mississippi misses Mrs. Sippy Missouri’ – Miss or he?
“Montana a tan mon. Nebraska nub, brass ska. Nevada snuff, had a New Hampshire. New hemp dryer? New Jersey knew juror, see?
New Mexico noon.
Mix, sicko. New York knew your core new. Nor North Carolina, nor thick air. Align a North Dakota. No Earth? Duh, quota. Ohio? Ojai? Oh. Oklahoma oak “le hom.” A Oregon’s organic organ organs. Pennsylvania––re: pence sells veins, ya? Rhode Island road I lend. South Carolina, sew thick arrow, line a South Dakota, sew -THUD- a coda.”
– Tennessee Williams.
Texas text is Utah newt talk.
Vermont, firm aunt:
“Virginia, verge gin, ya?
Washington, wash sheen tin.
West Virginia, verge in your west Wisconsin whisk.”
On sin: Wyoming, why owe Ming?
Alabama Al: “Lab, am I Alaska? I’ll ask ya if Arizona air is own, yeah? Arkansas are can saw. Los Angeles lozenge all less. Law sand gels us.”
Colorado caller, “Raw Dough:” Connecticut can neck tick cut?
“Delaware aware” – Adele. “Florida floored a floor, duh. Georgia a gorgeous gorge, George.”
“Hawaii, huh? Why? Eee! Idaho? I don’t know.”
“Illinois ill onion in Indiana,” Windy Anna, “Iowa eye. Oh… wha–? Kansas can sass, can Kansas? Kentucky can tuck key, can’t’ya key?”
Louisiana Lu: “Easy Anna. Maine, may’n Maryland mare, a lend? Massachusetts masses chews, sits. Master, choose zits.”
Michigan Misha: "Gain. Minnesota men is soda."
“‘Mississippi misses Mrs. Sippy Missouri’ – Miss or he?
“Montana a tan mon. Nebraska nub, brass ska. Nevada snuff, had a New Hampshire. New hemp dryer? New Jersey knew juror, see?
New Mexico noon.
Mix, sicko. New York knew your core new. Nor North Carolina, nor thick air. Align a North Dakota. No Earth? Duh, quota. Ohio? Ojai? Oh. Oklahoma oak “le hom.” A Oregon’s organic organ organs. Pennsylvania––re: pence sells veins, ya? Rhode Island road I lend. South Carolina, sew thick arrow, line a South Dakota, sew -THUD- a coda.”
– Tennessee Williams.
Texas text is Utah newt talk.
Vermont, firm aunt:
“Virginia, verge gin, ya?
Washington, wash sheen tin.
West Virginia, verge in your west Wisconsin whisk.”
On sin: Wyoming, why owe Ming?
Thursday, December 5, 2013
K is for Sea
K is for Sea
I developed peanut brittle
bones & soft lips
like sliced cucumbers, lobster
limbs & crab claw toes,
sea snail hair. A gull
is a dirty bird, a scrap
scavenger in gutters.
My hips are crust-
acean shells, stuffed
with succotash,
taffy & tar;
hermit crab stomach.
Screeching gulls
scrounging up sand bugs
with bills I don't have.
I developed peanut brittle
bones & soft lips
like sliced cucumbers, lobster
limbs & crab claw toes,
sea snail hair. A gull
is a dirty bird, a scrap
scavenger in gutters.
My hips are crust-
acean shells, stuffed
with succotash,
taffy & tar;
hermit crab stomach.
Screeching gulls
scrounging up sand bugs
with bills I don't have.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Criterion
Downhill Racer
They couldn’t eat the day
before the competition, their stomachs
pulled taffy. They exercise athletic
practice of self-denial.
He had breakfast with his father,
crackers & cheese, in front of the television,
turned off. Conversation sparse,
cold as the room.
“Winning? Making money?”
“I win today and I make the team for the Olympics.”
“Why do it if there’s no money.”
“I’ll be famous,
I’ll be champion.”
“The world’s full of ‘em.” He drove his father’s Ford pickup
to the event. All the way to the top.
- - -
Revanche
The photograph in his pocket
next to the rocks he collected
next to the lake.
Next to the lake
next to his backyard
his old man played accordion.
His old man played accordion
next to her grave,
next to the lake.
Next to the lake,
next to the photograph of her grave,
he took the rocks in his hands.
He took the rocks in his hands,
next, to his fist
next, to the lake.
Next to the lake
next to the shore
the ripples didn’t stop.
They couldn’t eat the day
before the competition, their stomachs
pulled taffy. They exercise athletic
practice of self-denial.
He had breakfast with his father,
crackers & cheese, in front of the television,
turned off. Conversation sparse,
cold as the room.
“Winning? Making money?”
“I win today and I make the team for the Olympics.”
“Why do it if there’s no money.”
“I’ll be famous,
I’ll be champion.”
“The world’s full of ‘em.” He drove his father’s Ford pickup
to the event. All the way to the top.
- - -
Revanche
The photograph in his pocket
next to the rocks he collected
next to the lake.
Next to the lake
next to his backyard
his old man played accordion.
His old man played accordion
next to her grave,
next to the lake.
Next to the lake,
next to the photograph of her grave,
he took the rocks in his hands.
He took the rocks in his hands,
next, to his fist
next, to the lake.
Next to the lake
next to the shore
the ripples didn’t stop.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Calendar/Dick
Calendar
After Kelly Link
1. Monday I’m in a cab when I have a heart attack.
2. My report, “The Fiscal Revenue of the Second Valve,” is due Tuesday
3. so I tell my doctor that I’ll deal with this whole heart thing on Wednesday.
4. “Well, when you’re dead on Thursday
5. I won’t have to schedule an emergency operation on Friday
6. which frees up my Saturday for golf.”
7. I die on Sunday.
8. The cab driver’s name that time is Mayday, which, moments before I died, reminded me of that James Bond villain. That unattractive diva. The one that works for the evil Christopher Walken without any explained motivations. The one that predictably sacrificed herself. The mine she dies in looked like Hell before and after the explosion.
9. Sewer gators– I’ve always been afraid of dinosaurs– are chewing on my legs. Tomorrow is payday for demons.
10. My report, “Yesterday’s Torture and the Effects of Leeches on the Human Anatomy” is due.
11. I like to think that someday the people in charge will stop asking for these.
12. Maybe I’ll get a break. Maybe on my birthday.
- - -
Dick
After S.S. Van Dine
1. It was my boyfriend. He told me in secret.
2. (See # 11 for where he told me, then return here). Gotcha.
3. They had had sex.
4. My boyfriend was in cahoots with a detective.
5. I don’t remember the names of either of them, my boyfriend or the detective.
6. The detective had talked to me once before. Asked me about my boyfriend, took a photo, left.
7. Then he ran over my cat.
8. My dead cat told me that the detective was schtupping my boyfriend.
9. All my friends agreed with my cat.
10. They said he was also sleeping with Mildred, remember her?
11. Mildred, the butler.
12. My boyfriend, Mildred and the detective.
13. Together they were the Three Muskeeteers.
14. That photo the detective took was replaced with a picture of the three of them tangled together, naked, on the back of a beluga whale in space. And a bill from the detective.
15. Looking back, I still don't see it coming. Especially about Mildred.
16. The photo was dated 10/31/99. I remember that Halloween as the one that I dressed up as DIY Frankenstein. My head was a paper bag from Ralph’s with a grease stain on top that looked like hair. I had some facial masque leftover, so the skin color was a cinch. Some leftover shoe boxes from when I moved where still in the garage so I used them as my giant boots. The pants I already owned and all my shirts were too big anyway. I had created myself. My boyfriend was the Bride of Frankenstein, but he bought the costume at a Party City. He didn’t even wear it. He obviously wasn’t with me that night.
17. They all apologized to me.
18. They said it was an accident.
19. They said it was just business.
20. My cat never meowed at my boyfriend, Mildred or the detective.
After Kelly Link
1. Monday I’m in a cab when I have a heart attack.
2. My report, “The Fiscal Revenue of the Second Valve,” is due Tuesday
3. so I tell my doctor that I’ll deal with this whole heart thing on Wednesday.
4. “Well, when you’re dead on Thursday
5. I won’t have to schedule an emergency operation on Friday
6. which frees up my Saturday for golf.”
7. I die on Sunday.
8. The cab driver’s name that time is Mayday, which, moments before I died, reminded me of that James Bond villain. That unattractive diva. The one that works for the evil Christopher Walken without any explained motivations. The one that predictably sacrificed herself. The mine she dies in looked like Hell before and after the explosion.
9. Sewer gators– I’ve always been afraid of dinosaurs– are chewing on my legs. Tomorrow is payday for demons.
10. My report, “Yesterday’s Torture and the Effects of Leeches on the Human Anatomy” is due.
11. I like to think that someday the people in charge will stop asking for these.
12. Maybe I’ll get a break. Maybe on my birthday.
- - -
Dick
After S.S. Van Dine
1. It was my boyfriend. He told me in secret.
2. (See # 11 for where he told me, then return here). Gotcha.
3. They had had sex.
4. My boyfriend was in cahoots with a detective.
5. I don’t remember the names of either of them, my boyfriend or the detective.
6. The detective had talked to me once before. Asked me about my boyfriend, took a photo, left.
7. Then he ran over my cat.
8. My dead cat told me that the detective was schtupping my boyfriend.
9. All my friends agreed with my cat.
10. They said he was also sleeping with Mildred, remember her?
11. Mildred, the butler.
12. My boyfriend, Mildred and the detective.
13. Together they were the Three Muskeeteers.
14. That photo the detective took was replaced with a picture of the three of them tangled together, naked, on the back of a beluga whale in space. And a bill from the detective.
15. Looking back, I still don't see it coming. Especially about Mildred.
16. The photo was dated 10/31/99. I remember that Halloween as the one that I dressed up as DIY Frankenstein. My head was a paper bag from Ralph’s with a grease stain on top that looked like hair. I had some facial masque leftover, so the skin color was a cinch. Some leftover shoe boxes from when I moved where still in the garage so I used them as my giant boots. The pants I already owned and all my shirts were too big anyway. I had created myself. My boyfriend was the Bride of Frankenstein, but he bought the costume at a Party City. He didn’t even wear it. He obviously wasn’t with me that night.
17. They all apologized to me.
18. They said it was an accident.
19. They said it was just business.
20. My cat never meowed at my boyfriend, Mildred or the detective.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Automatic Writing
Automatic Writing - It's an exercise of the subconscious. Pretty? Organized? Clear? Grammatically correct? No, it's not suppose to be anything except a collection of the rapid images and connections that your mind makes. 10 minutes of non-stop writing. I've done about 20 of these & found only this one that didn't have some weird personal things in them. Scary, dark, strange, unknown personal things. Talk about catharsis.
a feather duster like a white, dirty, feral cat. dead in the middle of the street, beaten to a furry pulp by a large man with a black spaghetti bears and tumbleweed hair. holding a sideways lexicon of pencils in his mouth. in his mouth wet, snail drool like dog drool sawmill tongue tongue tongue tongue like a witches hat skewed at the beginning at curling like toes in orgasm eyes squished tight, folds of flesh making stringy spheres for eye sockets wall sockets look like surprised Disney Alice In Wonderland cards with spade and heart heads pumping blood into backwards music boxes. Spinning jagged rusty metal ballerina. A ballet of decay and nostalgia. The music tinkling like freeway bumps. freeway bumps like freeway bumps pimples asphalt pimples cherries on stems orbit around each other like eyeballs touching. A cricket scurries away from a spider blooming out of a wooden hole in a garage that’s hotter than a dirty kitchen but the cricket makes it’s way to a lazy cat who does nothing. I saw my dog eat a tomato bug once. the juice dripped out of his mouth and when he went to lick it up he left a wet spot on the concrete the color of mud and it was in the shape of a tyrannosaurs rex in a cage. in a cage. a cage is like a cellular phone. cellular phone put into the head an antenna sticking out like Alfalfa from the little rascals who had freckles that looked like meatballs on spaghetti spaghetti spaghetti was diarrhea on a plate chili over hotdogs at a baseball game where the players run like animatronics from a distance and their smells of alcohol and fake cheese and American spirit. The spacebar on the keyboard feels like the underside of a breast that’s dry. dry dry dry dry dry dry dry dry there’s a shade of black that appears when I close my eyes that looks like a desert sun eclipse and my pants are lined like planets in orbit. A snail looks like a USB cord. The inside of a video game cartridge from the 80s reminds me of a cardboard invention of Calvin. Calvin …snowmen wait In hopes of rain, to melt into brothers. Snowmen with crooked arms that wave hello like broken bones. the white in their faces never matching the white on the ground. ground on the ground the ground on the ground underground worms have no eyes, no nose, no faces, no holes, but they hump through soft dirt in straight lines like jellyfish of mud. mud. mud. mud. He lost weight for the role and looks like my father if my father was dead and walking around. Hardwood floor cuts at my feet, making my toes bleed like that time I dropped a cement block on my big toe and my nail came off, turned black and fell away into the grass. My thumb toe without a nail looked like rough bologna and felt like a clump of matted hair, like on a rabid dog that once bit my brother’s leg like a shark bite.
a feather duster like a white, dirty, feral cat. dead in the middle of the street, beaten to a furry pulp by a large man with a black spaghetti bears and tumbleweed hair. holding a sideways lexicon of pencils in his mouth. in his mouth wet, snail drool like dog drool sawmill tongue tongue tongue tongue like a witches hat skewed at the beginning at curling like toes in orgasm eyes squished tight, folds of flesh making stringy spheres for eye sockets wall sockets look like surprised Disney Alice In Wonderland cards with spade and heart heads pumping blood into backwards music boxes. Spinning jagged rusty metal ballerina. A ballet of decay and nostalgia. The music tinkling like freeway bumps. freeway bumps like freeway bumps pimples asphalt pimples cherries on stems orbit around each other like eyeballs touching. A cricket scurries away from a spider blooming out of a wooden hole in a garage that’s hotter than a dirty kitchen but the cricket makes it’s way to a lazy cat who does nothing. I saw my dog eat a tomato bug once. the juice dripped out of his mouth and when he went to lick it up he left a wet spot on the concrete the color of mud and it was in the shape of a tyrannosaurs rex in a cage. in a cage. a cage is like a cellular phone. cellular phone put into the head an antenna sticking out like Alfalfa from the little rascals who had freckles that looked like meatballs on spaghetti spaghetti spaghetti was diarrhea on a plate chili over hotdogs at a baseball game where the players run like animatronics from a distance and their smells of alcohol and fake cheese and American spirit. The spacebar on the keyboard feels like the underside of a breast that’s dry. dry dry dry dry dry dry dry dry there’s a shade of black that appears when I close my eyes that looks like a desert sun eclipse and my pants are lined like planets in orbit. A snail looks like a USB cord. The inside of a video game cartridge from the 80s reminds me of a cardboard invention of Calvin. Calvin …snowmen wait In hopes of rain, to melt into brothers. Snowmen with crooked arms that wave hello like broken bones. the white in their faces never matching the white on the ground. ground on the ground the ground on the ground underground worms have no eyes, no nose, no faces, no holes, but they hump through soft dirt in straight lines like jellyfish of mud. mud. mud. mud. He lost weight for the role and looks like my father if my father was dead and walking around. Hardwood floor cuts at my feet, making my toes bleed like that time I dropped a cement block on my big toe and my nail came off, turned black and fell away into the grass. My thumb toe without a nail looked like rough bologna and felt like a clump of matted hair, like on a rabid dog that once bit my brother’s leg like a shark bite.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Scraps
This post is a bit different. Over the course of my occupation at Magic Mountain & Walmart, I would bring a folded up piece of paper to work (not my writing notebook because it would get greasy at MM & ridiculed at Walmart). I have a stack the size of a tiny bible (which is where I stored them, now the binding in the bible is all screwy) and decided, out of the blue, to go through them. Here are scattered images, lines, thoughts that I discovered that somehow interested me.
My 13 year old
dog needs surgery
for a tumor on his lip;
it balloons
in the sun, grows dark.
Do I have to pay
for the surgery if he...
dies on the table?
No more whispering
in his ear what a good dog
he was.
***
From Breast to bottle
No you can't speak to Jackie Chan (Damn,
he ain't gonna be in Rush Hour 3)
Hello Benjamin!
Collection of vegetables.
***
Papa loves Mambo, but what about Mom?
Is a double cross twice as religious?
***
Left/right K
N, but backwards.
***
Don't worry about the drive, your feet know the pressure to get home.
the song of the windows
Like the persistent sound
of clipping your toenails.
***
To My Brother (Who
Never Had a Disney Pass)
I'm sorry we left
early when you wanted
to stay until midnight.
The lights were just
turning on & the sun
just setting. I apologize.
***
But
***
I'm a junkie for the pricks
***
6:23-6:38
I drove by two girls in sleeping bags, camping on a driveway. White flashlights in hand pointing to the stars, laughing. What do they talk about? Do the stars listen? I only ever camped in the woods, back never kissed concrete. The woos stars were always beaming, but lacked orange fluorescent glow, flashlights, the sound of cars driving by, wondering.
***
fifty-eight year old with lover body of a sixteen year old volleyball playing bird.
***
Shhh...
"Do you know them?"
"No."
"I know you."
"You do?"
"Yeah, from school."
"Did you know her?"
"No."
***
A mushroom cloud of yellowed
grease stains the tacked on wallpaper
Onion rings evaporate at 350 degrees
Buffalo sauce vapors blitzkrieg nostrils
Chemical warfare (From what I can remember/tell, this is the first note I ever wrote at work)
My 13 year old
dog needs surgery
for a tumor on his lip;
it balloons
in the sun, grows dark.
Do I have to pay
for the surgery if he...
dies on the table?
No more whispering
in his ear what a good dog
he was.
***
From Breast to bottle
No you can't speak to Jackie Chan (Damn,
he ain't gonna be in Rush Hour 3)
Hello Benjamin!
Collection of vegetables.
***
Papa loves Mambo, but what about Mom?
Is a double cross twice as religious?
***
Left/right K
N, but backwards.
***
Don't worry about the drive, your feet know the pressure to get home.
the song of the windows
Like the persistent sound
of clipping your toenails.
***
To My Brother (Who
Never Had a Disney Pass)
I'm sorry we left
early when you wanted
to stay until midnight.
The lights were just
turning on & the sun
just setting. I apologize.
***
But
***
I'm a junkie for the pricks
***
6:23-6:38
I drove by two girls in sleeping bags, camping on a driveway. White flashlights in hand pointing to the stars, laughing. What do they talk about? Do the stars listen? I only ever camped in the woods, back never kissed concrete. The woos stars were always beaming, but lacked orange fluorescent glow, flashlights, the sound of cars driving by, wondering.
***
fifty-eight year old with lover body of a sixteen year old volleyball playing bird.
***
Shhh...
"Do you know them?"
"No."
"I know you."
"You do?"
"Yeah, from school."
"Did you know her?"
"No."
***
A mushroom cloud of yellowed
grease stains the tacked on wallpaper
Onion rings evaporate at 350 degrees
Buffalo sauce vapors blitzkrieg nostrils
Chemical warfare (From what I can remember/tell, this is the first note I ever wrote at work)
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
June 24, 2013
June 24, 2013
PEOPLE exclusive
Krisin Cavallaris'
WEDDING album!
Jennifer the REAL STORY
Aniston Paris Jackson
Wedding in CRISIS
on Hold?
Why Jen & Justin Face Transplant
Postponed their plans SURVIVOR
once excitedly planning After Tragedy
Jen has now put off her big $3.99
day, sources say
UPC #
PEOPLE exclusive
Krisin Cavallaris'
WEDDING album!
Jennifer the REAL STORY
Aniston Paris Jackson
Wedding in CRISIS
on Hold?
Why Jen & Justin Face Transplant
Postponed their plans SURVIVOR
once excitedly planning After Tragedy
Jen has now put off her big $3.99
day, sources say
UPC #
Afterword
Afterword
I'm sorry I followed
your lips & tongue, lip-synced
over you. I needed to know
their design (after you
told me I wasn't enough like you.)
I'm sorry I wore out your clothes
& you ditched me
in a place I've never been (after
I laughed at your attention
to the snails.) I'm sorry
I furnished our home with cactus
& sand instead of flowers (seeking eyes
wandered too far west) I'm sorry
on the nights when I can't smell myself
on my fingers, only you.
I'm sorry I followed
your lips & tongue, lip-synced
over you. I needed to know
their design (after you
told me I wasn't enough like you.)
I'm sorry I wore out your clothes
& you ditched me
in a place I've never been (after
I laughed at your attention
to the snails.) I'm sorry
I furnished our home with cactus
& sand instead of flowers (seeking eyes
wandered too far west) I'm sorry
on the nights when I can't smell myself
on my fingers, only you.
