Whalecraft

Why weary, and palsy arm at the oar? (Melville) Broken pattern and white whale seen. Avenging life with unity. On the path repeated, surrounded by

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Television on fire

Ah, to sit slack-jawed, studying the hours unasked for. Pushing logic onto illogic. Knowing it’s more fun without the thinking. Why even put pen to

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Quiet on the set

If the scene is nothing, and the production crew is no one, then hire the director, actor, writer, lighting team and cinematographer. Demand action and

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If infinity

If infinitywould quickly devour me I’d see the sun had been turned outand moon plunged into sea All tales eradicatedAll evidence annihilated The toads and

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Huh

This poem held up as a desire to be involved in something completely ridiculous. Dress me up in jester clothes. Plaster on the decades. Only

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Dog show

This play dream world is the mirror. Bitching truth with every little symbol and image. Irony all around mocks and steers to a truth. To

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Fake war

Gloves off. Saw them on the road. Philos character puttering and muttering. Disolving by the roadside while hitting the marks. Being the soaring tail eagle

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Self sea

See self again. Re-thinking pattern, order, perfection. See again. All he’s been doing for decades is seeing self again. Then it’s stuffed away as the

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Diabolic Fool

Clutching time like a branded fool, I walk a line in a crowded school. But one day I came to Mary, with one idea so

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Into the lawful

Soaring into the living once more. Into the lawful. A dazzling wonder materializes before my eyes. A lovely face and frame prances through my text

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Prank

Into the looking glass went your eyes. And there you were again. Like the worm in your pocket after you stomped the Jerusalem beetle.  You

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Onward

Oh Philos, you dug so industriously, like an ingenious prisoner with a spoon sneaked from the mess hall. Tunneling and pushing out past trails and

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Battlefield

And oh the silly battlefield of days before. An hour floating in a puddle of magnesium water. Breathwork and mind stilling in a chair called

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Nothing more

I am nothing more, nothing less. Just a ray of light looking into a dirty, pulsing goofball play. At a shit-stained stage with second-rate actors.

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Almost yellow

Take your time. Take your fortune. A green that’s almost yellow. Sprawling nightshade leaves on a hillside. Purple horns blaring bird chirps past humming bees.

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Burn the day

What would I tell you, Philos, from just at the cusp of the grave?  You tried too hard. You thought the other actors cared about

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Yo Adrian. Rocky.

“It feels like a party every day. Hey Jesse!” said the college boy. I can and do manipulate my emotions at will. When I let

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Moonset kingdom

He says he doesn’t like pines because the pollens give him allergies. The lines on the road here look like birthday candles, and there is

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Flit fly

Change, change, change. Delta gate two. Fat man in surgery mask parks nearby. Nerves straight into the skull via the teeth. Who would like a

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The beheading

And the Kalliope crashed to the ground.  Curbside delivery. Asking the morning sounds for a hint of what’s to come.  A meteor shower blocked out

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Lights one way (part 2)

So what is the opposite of this death thing? A dream? The lights on. Arising. Awakening. Understanding a pack of lies then knowing they’re lies.

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Whipping flame

The sounds of whipping flame in the morning breeze.

Car tires hum across the street above.
The chime of the harbor mouth bell buoy

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Running out the clock

The puppy fails to grow fast enough for perception.
Tik tok.
The joke of all jokes – an app that burns life into insignificant ashes is named for the old devil who murders the moments.

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To the vet

And the veterinarian loved animals, so she played the part.

And I loved words and signed up for that one.

“But I’ve lost the words to find righteousness in thought, ” I said.

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Hey you!

You are everywhere at once.

You are as far as I can imagine.

Co-create the imagining, but don’t force it. Let it come. Your circumstance is ideal.

Your dying days are paradise.

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