How To Get Rich Writing Poetry
That’s right you too can be a Donald Trump
A Warren Buffett of poetry
A buffet of trumpets a warren of infinite crisis
Just follow these easy steps
To a cocktail lounge sit down and employ
A ceremony of words in a roiling brook
Of magnetic obscurities. An angel
of the morning Read More
86. Paulownia Tomentosa
His “Good Day!” was always overcast. - Ramon Gomez de la Serna
& yes, he was from Seattle. & yes, the sun was shining that particular Friday in the season of lilac blossoms and a full bloom Empress Tree, Princess Tree, Paulownia tomentosa, stolen from central and western China but an invader here loving the lack of competition for what sun there is, shaping purple hanging bell blossoms and leaves in whorls of three. We sit under it, take fotos, are there if we think about it, Lakewood Park.
& by good day he meant, in Seattle nice, courtesy and not much else, will wait for your street crossing, will not honk, “a city of the mind . . . a city of geeks. People here . . . totally blow you off ” the newcomer’d say in The Times. But not at the stop sign beyond the Empress Tree. Not at the four way stop where you go no you go no you go & the guy from Chicago goes knowing your M.O., knowing driving the car “is personality enshrined.” Read More
Service Dog Read More
I could be a Schnauzer, a Black Lab, or a Dalmatian, but I’d prefer to be a German shepherd, and you could name me after a Greek god or your great grandfather or that punk/funk band you really like. When we go out, I would start wagging my tail like a pendulum in heat and you could dress me in one of those neon orange vests with the silver stripes (maybe neon yellow on special occasions) that says in big block letters: SERVICE DOG.
with only three weeks of summer left
momma reaches for her sleeping pill
hoping to distance herself from the
dry heat bold manners and fat dancing
party hops going on in floods of wine
red white and plenty of gin Read More
The real uncle sam
GIs came home after WW2, raised hell for a while, Read More
then found a wife and looked around for a house.
Markets provided prefabricated house kits, delivered to your lot. Pre-fabs.
Buy them on the GI Bill. Put them up in a few days. Crackerbox houses.
Square, plain, two bedrooms, kitchen, bath and living room. Plywood. A
few of them are still around. Crackerbox houses.
Thoughts Are Not Feelings
Between blankets and sleep, sleep and death rolls hard red apples, day old
bread, liverwurst, fingerless gloves, frayed shoelaces, nine pregnancies, six live
births, red-brick walls, tarnished forks with bent tines and a topless jelly jar where flies
procreate. My thighs wake to cold.
Not snow-cold children pray for with carrot nose snowmen sledding down hills. Read More
Not ice cold cubes clanging against sides of a sparkling tumbler swishing an orange rind,
maraschino cherry, barrel-aged rye, and a sugar cube. Not chills or sneezes.
A BEAST IN THE CHAPEL
Several times I asked my father
to pull on my ears
until my feet were lifted off the ground.
Several times I asked him
to look into my eyes
and blow out the red lanterns—
those soft pendulums Read More
that keep me up at night,
twin stars of vermillion arias.
I Fall in Love with a Photo of e.e. cummings in a New Yorker Magazine While in the Waiting Room of an Opthamologist’s Office
it's black and white
he's looking intently
away from the camera at
a parade of lower case 'i’s
a hyphened world
linear time and rhyme
disappear in a desert
of white stallions Read More
When my students ask me how to use the future tense,
I tell them that we use “will”
for a promise or a threat.
I will always love you, for example.
And to make a plan, we use the “present continuous,” Read More
When I open the letters
more than words fly out;
bees alert for the first hint of pollen
crawl out between the pages,
circle my head and disappear. Read More
stands of green
I think of your
back home Read More
so far away
Hello, you say—
my heart bounces
in and out of my shoes
skids across the desk
—a blizzard of memos—
splashes down in my cup of tea. Read More
When all becomes quiet and still
I always find myself looking for the person I used to be.
When all endings become beginnings and
The hours seem to have dissolved into
I always find myself wondering
Where have I been? Read More
I’m sending you this message
to deny that I am deceased.
However, as the general consensus
would have it, I may be, like you,
extinct. What I was as an active, younger man
no longer exists. That life is gone.
I Saw the Crows of Summer Charge the Powder Blue Sky
I saw the crows of Summer charge the powder blue sky
Roadwork on the freeway could not stop their mission
Technology w/ all its posture could not halt their flight
Like midnight ink splattered on sunny white sheets Read More
Awareness comes slowly:
The soft darkness,
the quilt on the bed, the stalking
shapes of furniture. My eyes
tunnel down to a pinprick of light. Read More
In Pelican, they say the dump, a mile outside of town, is the only place with cell service.
And so he clomps off the boat
and off the float, up the ramp,
away from town, hot showers,
a fresh bag of flour, and stamps Read More
I am a dog with no master
Proud and hungry
Go where I want
Envied by shampooed, collared pedigrees Read More
Fu Manchu, a caricature,
the Chinese, sinister,
popularized in Hollywood,
spread to all neighborhoods.
there are only moments now
when illness is forgotten,
when the woman you once were
returns to your skin
and a trick of imagination
sees you sprint to the corner