rise and shine kid morning’s here/coffee up with cream and splenda/grub up dress up disappear/meet that improvised agenda
break at seven lunch is noonish/crunch those numbers write that plan/show up for the meeting loonish/out by seven if you can
home at last kiss wife pet doggie/flop exhausted watch the game/weather forecast comes up soggy/every day more of the same
the murky focus is for the squeamish
who might squeam
if they saw how like crawling centipedes
these new stitches slash scars appear
.
this makes six surgical scars and a patch of road rash
two on my forehead three on right hand/wrist and one on my left knee
and the road rash on my left forearm
.
hey wait i forgot my appendix scar
that makes lucky seven
.
we are all scarred
and not all scars heal well
and some not at all
but we are here
and here there are avenues of comfort
.
the hockey player gordie howe had dozens of scars
they were an occupational hazard
and badges of honor
.
the road rash has been healing gradually over the last seventeen years
it has gone in relative size and shape from australia to japan
.
so i hope to get the scar to hawaii by my hundredth birthday
.
and my centipedes will have joined my lifeline and loveline seamlessly
when i shake my Maker’s nonhand
heat, oxygen, fuel/and say goodbye to your neighborhood/and many of your possessions/for nothing is sacred or safe/from this ultimate consumer
the indifferent greedy beast/blooms a spark into a destroyer of households/and “zero percent contained”/is its mantra of cruel mockery
one house in a cul-de-sac survives/and former residents ask God why
the grief and pain are likewise zero percent contained/in the dragon’s breath of Hell on Earth
huge heroism steps up
catastrophic as it is it could be worse
and steely strength of character/forges the mettle of modest saviors
.
the wind leaves char in its wake
the smoke settles in tidal pools and lucky uncharted surrounds
some day a new chapter will right itself
bugmuscle propels the skittering critter/tripodally some times, in flight others. a horse’s gallop is inelegant/in comparison; the coordination of six legs/whilst maintaining balance and speed/keeps the flexor muscles of three femurs contracting/and the other three relaxed/at any given moment. a scientist named Hill/developed a model that niftily tells us what is going on/with all muscle, exoskeletally encapsulated/or not. it makes for good, substantive reading, but/i left it unfinished, being unready/with my bunch of mammal muscle/to be over the Hill/just yet.
bugs cannot smile. rejoice, for we can and do!
He ordered a pitcher of beer/And poured it too fast. With a sneer/His girlfriend said/”You give horrible head–/Take it slow to succeed. Am I clear?”
A thirsty young lass name of Gail/Took a long steady pull at her ale/Then with foamy mustache/She proceeded to slash/Through guitar riffs that made the Gods wail.
A balding young cowboy named Getty/Spread some Edge shaving gel on his head. He/Then sculpted the foam/on his sparsely-tressed dome/And declared, “Now I look like a yeti!”
From the sea-foam came lovely, nude Venus/And Surfer Dude said, “Human genus/Persists. Don’t reject us/Poor Homo Erectus/If Reflex takes hold of our ..uhh…” then he fainted.
noeyes
“…as you stare into the vacuum/of his eyes…” Bob Dylan, “Like a Rolling Stone”
he is noeyed/nevertheless he is eyeing us all
judging
looking out at you and seeing foibles
waiting for another slip
and that is why he is there on my home screen
amongst stuff i often use
i made him to watch me/keep me mindful/let me know twin abysses abide/and every moment counts
i stare him down to prepare for a challenge
he wants to intimidate but hey
i can see right through him/so can you
on the pier you smell fish and saltwater/or you might be inside a shack to buy a hat/and you hear seagulls and tenor-clanging bells/and you might see a huge grey battleship at the edge of vision
on the pier you lean on the rail/and resonate with incoming crash of surf/and you are pulled by a sea that sings to your dna/of home
on the pier an excited boy catches his dinner
while a wandering-eyed husband catches hell
you walk from the pier to the boardwalk/rent a bike and build a breeze for your face
you glide and look backward and see that the pier you were on is shrinking/and you turn around to make it grow again
turn in the bike pay and walk to where you had been and are welcomed by a calm pelican who gives you a tiny nod
on the pier
a honeybee thwarted
must go to plan b
b cautious when straying
from combs in the tree
b mindful b wary
b nectar-aware
b able to map-dance
and lead sisters there
.
the dance of survival
in honeycombed tree
will lead to arrival
at bloomful point bee.
in the concourse/walking toward me/a fortyish guy wearing his allegiance to ohio state
i’d never met him but i congratulated him
he said Thanks a touch apprehensive a touch smug
his football team had last night defeated the texas longhorns
and as I sat on a just-vacated seat/they started allowing group 3 passengers on the plane
scant minutes later i and my fellow group niners are let to board
scant minutes later i am strapped in with seat 23F
one minute later I am remembering/the car ride to the airport/on icy roads
right now the welcomer to flight 474/has mentioned the need to do some defrosting
but assures us we are under clear skies
.
ever the pessimist i worry-wart in my seat and wonder if this my last message
so to give it the gravitas it may need/I hereby state that it is possible to love everyone/and hate no one
love sweetens the psyche and hate venomizes the psyche
my universal advice to everyone in five words is “have good safe challenging fun”
happy landings
Note: At the time of this writing, the author is still alive.
the buddha’s lap is full of snow/his testes are retracted./his head is void of yes and know/and dead men’s laws enacted./ignoring cold and hungerthirst/and mudra’d bladder fair to burst/he’s in serenity immersed/and centered, stilled, and placid.
the buddha’s chakras are aglow/attuned to One with All./the fountain by him does not flow/it welcomes flakes to fall./by dusk the snow will them enshroud/make trees no longer barren-boughed/and false existence disallowed:/Nirvana come to call.
One with Clay, Image and Text 