there is the moon/above a gauzy cloud/and if it had a saturn’s ring/in its current crescent state/it would look like a bow and arrow/poised to fire at the sun horizon sun
there are muons too/in subatomic abundance/but if you want to see them/you will need a cloud chamber/and even then what you will see/are its characteristic tracks
the moon up above/the muons all around
one cloud gauzing/one revealing
that’s life
now, gullible and lullable are twins./but sanctioned hanky-panctity is not./the horizon infinity run alas is a race nobody wins/and a moment may be finite as a dot.
when we are fools in lust and greed and wanting/and get our hopes up faster than a flare./some hopes shatter, some dissolve, some are killed and then start haunting/some will drive us to the outskirts of despair.
strong acid has no appetite/but eats voraciously/and black holes eat surrounding light/and time eats you and me.
when dining in a restaurant/let’s bless the beasts that feed us/and be polite and nonchalant/and tip the folks who need us.
we fill our baskets to make feast/in province state and county/and North and south and west and east/provide us with our bounty.
the bottom-feeders play the part/without which toppers languish/let’s tend our filth and show some heart/by quelling sea life anguish.
dig in with gusto yet when done/reserve, recycle, be/as life-supporting as the Sun/and live r e s p o n s i b l y.
The Asymmetrical Heart
We have romanticized the heart/Reduced it to a simple shape/Made myth of its emotive core/Denied our kinship with the ape
Its septa, chambers, valves and pipes/Tell of a greater life-romance/Of oxygen exchange, the more/Essential to Survival’s dance
In comes corpuscular starvation/Sent to the lungs; enriched; engorged; To function make and flush restore/And thus is our Existence forged
The Heart at heart is like a bellows/A squeezebox never on the shelf/So have respect, ye Ladies, Fellows:/It yields not love but Life Itself.
mix up the letters of JOE BIDEN
and you get I NEED JOB.
mix up PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP
and there’s a DESPOT in there/and a PIED STRUMPET/and a RESIDENT DOTARD
and a lot of other fun insulting anagrams
for the man who likes to say things/to get elected/and then unsay them/because he only said them to get elected.
you can also be sure/that the CANDOR or a venerated news ANCHOR will evoke his RANCOR AND/OR Wrath.
long ago a military man said these exact words: “We had to destroy the village in order to save it.”
Somewhere in at least two places evil men are acting as if
they have to destroy this country
in order to destroy it.
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.
One with Clay, Image and Text 