Frost

Death shuts us all up.
After death, what’s left to say?
“I’m sorry.”
“My condolences.”
“She’s in a better place now.”
What good do those words do the dead?

What good do those words do the mourning?
What help language?
What use prayer?
How will any benefit from such useless sounds?

Better the death of noise
for now
to complement
the other losses.
Better to share these gaping absences
until some warmth returns
and we are all a little less cold.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

The Way It Is

It’s not that I give zero fucks
it’s that I get zero fucks
and then treat things in kind.
I’m just preternaturally fuckless,
is what it is.

If it were different,
I’d be offering fucks up and down the boulevard,
free of charge,
a friggin’ Jonny Fuckleseed of Main Street
but that’s not the way it is
and some things’ll never change.

I’m lacking in fucks
so have nothing to provide
regarding the giving or taking of Fuck One
through Fuck Fourteen
going into Fuck Infinity.
You get what I’m saying?
I do not give a single fuck.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Newman and King

Sure, I’ll be there for you,
that’s what friends are for, right?
And you’re a friend of mine
so where you lead, I’ll follow
every step you take,
your shadow, strolling,
traveling along,
fighting ‘til the end.

You can always count on me.

Thank you for being a friend.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Newman and King

Sure, I’ll be there for you,
that’s what friends are for, right?
And you’re a friend of mine
so where you lead, I’ll follow
every step you take,
your shadow, strolling,
traveling along,
fighting ‘til the end.

You can always count on me.

Thank you for being a friend.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Call of Night

Look around you:
the lights are low.
All sounds are dim.
You am listening to the house settle
slowly into snores.
You wait for everyone else to sleep.
Soon you’ll be the last one sitting
on guard in the homestead.

Soon
the only one awake
will be you.

Then, you can work the perimeter,
if you wish.
You can choose the channel
you could raid the freezer.
You lay in whatever position
in the living room
on all the cushions.
This freedom
is unimaginable

and it is yours every evening
that you can withstand the call of night
longer than everyone else
with enough fortitude to get up and…
just get up…
you can do it…

Maybe tomorrow then.
There’s always tomorrow…

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Rabbit/Duck

I do not hunt
except for bargains
or spelling errors
to correct commenters
thus proving my argument is stronger than anyone else’s
in any of WarnerVerse community boards
I happen to be a part of.

I do not hunt
but for failings in my characters
for the purposes of self-flagellation
so that I may feel freer
in the process of others-flagellation,
an avocation that occupies many an hour,
if I were hunting for honesty, here.
I am not
– because I do not hunt.

I do not hunt
because we are past that.
I do not hunt
because it seems cruel.
I do not hunt
because I don’t like tomatoes.
I do not hunt
though I don’t use all fingers on a keyboard
and for years have lived in Hunts Point.

Despite all these things
(and because of some others)
I just don’t see the point in hunting
but I will keep looking.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Effective Technical

Looking back on some old poems
about you.

I really
really really really
really really really really really really really
really hated you at the end.
I hated you more than I hated the next three,
maybe together
– assuming there’s an effective technical way
to collect the hate
and tally it appropriately
which I think would be an amazing study
if done correctly.

I suspect the hate came from the helplessness I felt
because of how desperately I craved you
and knew it wasn’t reciprocated
to the degree I needed it to be.
I knew there was nothing I could do.

And, of course,
it all proved true.
A self-fulfilling prophecy, perhaps,
but destiny is destiny
and we were through
while my hate burnt blue.

The poetry reads bitter now,
acrid.
I hate the animosity in every line
but I wish I could I could generate
that sort of energy on command
were I able to tabulate it
in the theoretical study referred to
above.

Anyhoo,
thinking of you.
Yours,

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

And a Leopard

This one has a ghost in it
and a leopard
and a couple of skeet shooters
competing for the championship of the universe
– but ironically, in pocket pool.

This one includes two dance numbers
a race sequence
four fight scenes
two independent bursts of song
and a dream sequence in black and white
that subsequently explodes into kaleidoscope.

This one’s got romance and humor and bourgeois rap
and a megagasmic budget
with a cast of thousands
and a special effect or eight.
It’s coming to a theater near you
this Christmas
and it’s precisely as good
as you think it is.

Ask for it by name
or it’s sequel.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Lonely Months

It was pretty touch and go
for a while, there.
There was a month
I was fairly close to dead,
figuratively.
I was getting out of bed
getting out of the house
but with nowhere to go
no reason to be.

I was a ghost
haunting my own life.
It felt pointless.

It wasn’t even wretched.
It didn’t reach that level of dysfunction.
It was some kind of toxic emasculinity,
I was just wandering through.

I was chameleon-close to the rest of you,
but was something else there,
as I struggled with my zombie-existence.
It was rough.

I wish I could have said something
while the spell was cast.
Maybe I could have gotten some help.
Maybe you could have helped me break it.
But probably it always had to be
something I did on my own.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A Tree Falls in the Bronx

Outside my window
the single tree on my block
is barely a tree.
A reversed truck has left roots exposed
and now the tree
can be seen struggling to connect
with the earth beneath our feet.

The city’s been told
and, in its infinite bureaucracy,
has done aught to rectify anything.
Days have passed
and the tree, she remains untethered
barely balanced above the dirt
always at risk of falling onto the street
into incoming traffic.

Sometimes I watch
from my window.

I did not see
when someone came with a two by four
to silently prop
the only tree on the street
up from the street
so she would not fall prematurely.
Dead wood was used
to maintain the longevity
of the living thing still left on my block.

I haven’t thanked the soft savior
but I’m glad for her actions
and so, I’m certain,
is that tree.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment