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Prayer in Iambic

O, Come thee, hand of Death, and wash from me
This stain of thinking. Purge the grime and rust,
The grease and filth of my still body. Come,

You monster! Free me from my own dependence,

And take from me the thought that a thought matters,

And free me from the notion that this means.

O, Death, please take, please hand of Death remove

This love for something that does not exist.

And yes, I know the hand I call is mine.

And yes, these fingers clack the instrument

Of my destruction, washed with brown and fear

And sentiment. I know I've given life

To that which shall consume me

reunion

I wonder if id recognize your face indifferent 

               if
   we weren't here for 20 years since
   would your gray still transluce the 21 year old? you

sat in a stool one bar over there
the other night
the bartender

(I knew him but he had eyes like a bartender on a busy Friday. He
                                           sat in a tiny practice space with me once him with trombone and he was
                                             asked not to play later and there was great pizza around the corner and slushy drinks at a bar down the block.)

In our present bears struggle against packers and memories of bars and violence
                                              a bottle smashed on someone
                                              a bottle rocket shot into something
                                              a smile   of recollect

ing I am here and there in time twice at once

         and Now 

it's poetry (this) I

started 4 years ago and it

brings me back to a moment that brings me back to a moment that brings me bakc to a moment back to a moment a moment a moment moment. 

 

iaminthecar

I am in the car. I

am on the road. It is

the same road as

today the

same on the 

I am on the road. I am i

n the car. It is the same car,

It is the same road. It

straights and carries.

It widens

windows winding

winding.

It I am

on the road.

I am in the car. It carries; caroms. It

carol carries I am

 I am in the car I am on the 

road. It is

        the same road

as

it is the I am the I am in the car

Revision

last night, the 

road the 

town the 

side of the mountain. the 

wind chipped and charted the 

wind ffffded and found i 

was back there

walking. 

last night the wind chimped and chimeded the wind wired and weird and winded

last night, the 

cold there the 

side of the road. 

the teeth chawed
the            mountain, town i

was the side

walking

the road on the side of the mountain.

it was               cold there. there the 

    wind shewed. 

it chipped and charted the heart and hearted,

the

night

sided hearth

and heart hear is here is here is here is last night there is hear to here is home is

last night is the wind chipped

the chip chap founded 

the found and founded

the fish the finish the

last night 

the 

last winded night winding road 

the  mountown the 

thought 

teeth 

thought 

though

tow

tone 

side 

back 

child 

chide

a cold a
canyon.

ACOLDACANYON

last night, I was back there walking on the road towards the town on the side of the mountain. it was coldld there. 

cold there there the wind chipped and charted the wind ffffded and found and
last night (he) (ttthe) i was 

back their 

wal(k)ing. the wind chimped and chimeded. 

thhe wind weird and winded. last

night the(r) tttthe coed, the code code cold--the Ed the e the -ed .

the cold there et al

the the all the side the sod. thhe thee the teeth, 

th e 

eh 

the mountain, town ton on the side (to the to the) the the. though the thought though it-- i
was the the side )the back the eh (th he)( t

here walking wailing the two town charted the found the last rr--rr: i.e. I there back there walking on the rod walking the road toward the ton town o. on the side of the mountain, it was o o  o oh it was code cold there. i. there the wind child . i there the i there the wwwind the chip; the charted the heart and hearted the big lake (like lake lay) lain --the fire in the furnace the old laughing lady. last

night the hearth heart hear is here is here is here is lasst

nigh here

is hear is here is him is home is

lastnight is the back the wind thhe the i wind the rod do roe chip chap chip founded fine found finish eee

lasst neigh neighbor the last winded winding the rod the ton town the mountown the though teeth thought tone side back child child chide lake laaay 

a comb a 

   canyon.

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a map of memory

the cushioned chair, high backed, gold leafed
the porcelain figurine

the lazy susan cookware spinning
the basement stair exposed
the constant heat

the bedroom: Warrant, Poison
the blossom tree
the entrance through garage to kitchen table
the concrete floor

the right turn doorstop, couch
the sound of music
the backyard fence and clothesline
the roar of whole house fan
(a room I never entered)

...asleep with cassette rain

when we were where we were

When 

we 

were young and on the 

way home from Joliet and from family gatherings (in the 

white cushioned chair, high backed and gold leafed, up on the carpet like a dry riverbed, I had slapped my aunt for eating my Christmas present candy), the moon 

would follow us. Peering out of the Caravan 

window, I 

watch it stay even 

with us on the highway because, it too, 

was going 

where 

we 

were.

check out the columns to the right i last updated in the mid to late 2000s haiku

the blogs i followed
did not age well, but the
music still holds up.

spy shit

tonight light dark
             light 

             lightens 

             lightning 

             lighter 

             lights linger 

             lightness 

                     darkening 

                     darker. 

tonight it's 

 "night 

   night"        dark 

            light fights 

                    darkness too. 

            it's 

   night.        

                    

                    darkening 

            light. 

           it's porch 

            light. 

           it's shadow its. 

white wall and blank space 

           it's "go go dog" out in 

                     dark yard 

           it's highway distance 

           it's to 

   night. 

           it's "love you sleep tight" itsits hiding and revealing its its its it is itssss pppyy///

In other news, survivor's back on, the piano is safely wedged between the wall and the step, and and and the art on the wall os crooked again.

this blog is also the fault of the pogues

when a heartstops       when a face is covered indirt     in side its apair       of brown eyesandd auld triangles itsa white citytransmetropolitan its   loss of the writer of words whose wordsmad e sense of loss who seemed lost 30 years ago but here now is lost is lost is not at a glass a pinta brown acustom a dead dupon the drugsthe cracks inthe wall spelt hell the cracks in the wall spellttt

well then

igott

aliitl

ewate

ri

gott

alittl

edatughte

rbu

ti

wil

lb

eth

e