Not It

who is human reading more for
fundamental understanding who
else is here what are they doing

question everything you think
who is thinking what matters
most others can well disagree

simply say what you believe
true for you that other people
are different you are not it

Stern Reproof

I can say anything I can
do I used to think anything
and by now I mostly have

but just because you liked
it once doesn't mean you
have to keep doing it

again the limit of body
not to mention thought
asserts a stern reproof

I can still say anything I
like saying what I like
assuming I can have it

Forever Starting

did I miss a day
I did reading Carol's
early life makes me
think of mine too

this is who we were
what we expected
then we grew up lived
what have we learned

all that matters is now
and the next now
forever starting from
where we actually are

A Tardy Nap

another story tells itself
about elephants rhinos
and anything else that
occurs to a three-year-old
I listen enthralled

I can't do that myself
just let it come out or
down for a tardy nap
hoping to be able to walk
to the restaurant table

fly away before it all
falls down again hideous
growling loss of life
everything is broken
that seemed so perfect

Beautiful Story

to make my life beautiful
move beautifully in time
beauty is serene balance

energy flows may fluctuate
sometimes dramatic wild
other times even calm easy

make beauty of realness
actualities in conference
beautiful story self-telling

Distributed Centers

the pattern of action demonstrates
no is what's going on unrevealed
language its own world complete
transparence the nature of being

character and dialogue yield to
action implies feeling motivates
whatever anyone says reasoning
emerges after the choice is made

see what you do the only way to
know if nothing does nothing else
notice the pattern as if everything
coheres around distributed centers

A Different Cast

sorry forever that I fell out of your life
just as I was falling in love overruled
by "reality" I had to do something else

and someone else was there available
housing sex food art appreciation only
goes as far as poetry can be imagined

what either of us might have written
read plays now with a different cast
characters I never would have known

All Yours

if you want to be an artist
you'll need to have ideas
and act on them this last
is the crucial ingredient
acts are ideas embodied
most unsayable in words
which only hint and point
possible meaning all yours

Who You

how could I embrace no opinion
being a critic was my livelihood

having filled I'm ready to empty
no-thought comes naturally now

I don't know what you should do
what is should what do who you

One Plate

feverishly writing doors opening
closing days trip seasonal ops
nothing saying whether meaning
not occupied unable unwilling

all negatives excuse silence
cosidered deep or final times
two or more share one plate
wrested from disoriented smoke

High Heels

beer better than nothing
for the long bare night
context the city where life
goes on as if it will last
necessary striving to live
well as others seem to do

this is not the world I know
now so energetic successful
competition whetting appetite
temptation to style realized
in jewels high heels struts
pretending not to notice smiles

Higher Harmonies

constant goodies keeps my
balance always first concern
comfort regular habits meet
expectation rhythmic orbits
dislike bumps or omissions

so I hardly dare move lest
the beat falter cream runs
out I forget key ingredient
the cake doesn't rise party
ruined careful don't trip in

fact none of that happens
I'm just riffing on my own
elaborate self-indulgences
striking higher harmonies
now while we're still alive

Dancing Away

never flash moment of satori
I keep awakening again again
having absorbed the teachings
then forgetting then remember

bandwidth narrows immediate
problems fill up feeling mind
as if there is nothing else no
more elevated considerations

everyone knows deeper lives
connected to ultimate source
power making things happen
whether we like it or approve

chop wood carry water clean
house cook dinner wash face
smile be happy brother sister
generations dancing away

Takeover

trucks conspire take over
hardware serves software
as the body serves the mind
organic unity vs. machine

the underlying flow cannot
be stopped forget it go on

Empty Beds

no ruins in Oregon fallen
castles walled cities moats
here former civilizations
left no permanent marks

offensive New York high
rising asking for it empty
beds parked money eye
candy views unobserved

damaged planet cannot
recover like each of us
abused in using all we
are to make all we can

old story long ago lives
toiling animal human
structured stones remain
stories of making lost

Quiet Events

pushing toward the threshhold of severe
scares the sleeper wakes rises early six

early enough for another slow seasoning
with friends interrupt their own agendas

thirty-seven triggers beeps I have to track
forgetting last year and the year before

weather's traces lost among many quiet
events accumulate errors as well as joys

Too Late

what is going on is mine to figure out
how much will be disclosed and when
is it already too late to start doing what
might make a critical difference in the
outcome no one else interested in how
it feels although nothing matters more

One Blink

saving savage vacancies
denies value denounces
higher claims contested
furiously cleaning plain
rooms full of yesterday

last summer's preserves
emerge flavorful intact
households keep some
continuity temporarily
like one blink one eye

Small Boxes

A handsome mahogany cigar chest with nothing in it but the humidor apparatus. I put it away in the Chinese trunk, which is a jumble and makes me deeply uneasy, papers, small boxes, a wadded up baby afghan. Someone ought to straighten it up but this is not the moment. I set the box in on top of the mess, hoping it doesn't stick up too high and interfere with the missing tray. A large rectangular space that could be either a lawn or a swimming pool. Oppressive paternal authority lurking about. The feeling attached to the symbol, the symbolism obscure, random, meaningless, meaninglessness itself a symbol attached to a feeling. Inescapable circle, reality itself, consciousness perched like a bird on a twig. The tree itself growing, dying, the air and light ever changing, not always navigable or comfortable. Get used to it.

One Day

it's all one day
stars included
how can I be
positive fresh
leaping ahead
feeling as I do
what I always
imagine right
wrong answer
move quicker
be quite still
listen closely
open to pain
old pleasures
morning again

Wild Release

oh take me away from this
complicated body seasons
music transport me where
else there is beauty rapture
easy flowing then dancing
wild release someone else

this is how I feel I have a
cold swollen gland achy
hip not what it used to be
Ravel saves the situation
the night unfolding wraps
me in eternal cosmic now

Nudist News

massive split
necessary men
center left/right
any questions

nudist news
sulky moue
standing firm
breathing warmth

bishop's note
rubbish sacks
plump lips
promising novel

Drink or Eat

if I had anything in mind
I must have been thinking

I had something to drink
or eat to stimulate thought

everything follows anyway
whatever you may imagine

no difference minuscule
whether you think or not

Only Body

trapped in this body
thinking in gurgling
tubes twinges lumps
immaterial wording
declines to penetrate
as if I no longer read
or care to care about
new interchangeably
discouraging events
only body is serious
nothing else exists

Say So

do readable word crazy spare
me attention scattered widely

story character anchors fair
uses the structure to ensnare

doing or thinking something
else orders attacks unwisely

over when you say so soon
breaking perspective shared

One Week

Sidney Lanier
Ruth Maleczech
Mario Montez
all in one week

Times: dogs have
thoughts and feelings
just like yours

Come Home

"If I can jump out of a plane, I can do anything, and it doesn't really matter at the end of the day anyway, so let's just have fun doing it." —Gretchen Bleiler (Olympic snowboarder)

no fog in spite of twelve years
in Afghanistan too long come
home boys and girls retire all
generals at welfare pay slash
the military rebuild America

The Same Person

I am not the same person she says actually
I am the same person I have always been
though I don't live necessarily act the same
no longer in a state of total paranoid hysteria

much changes the very cells but I am still me
who else made up on the basis of who I was
to begin with my very mistakes and triumphs
the material I have to work with as I learn

What I See

consciousness looks out from paint-encrusted eyes
seeing each other clear departures from normality
each own inherited from generations past knowing
despite historical dissolution fallen from troubled
custom dictates stresses comfort level collapsing
this is what I see when I look outward at the world

Better Stories

that was yesterday this is still today
and then it will all be gone but for
words crystallizing trace memory
pictures can do as well or better
stories told to oneself or others
slowly separate from their origin
eventually all becomeing fiction
before finally sublimely nothing

New Clothes

bright colored T-shirts on children
two by two on the bridge sidewalk
new clothes for the start of school
as the year goes on they will fade