Hopeless Love

if I were dead what would people say
what impression did I make what mix
of fondness and irritation respect and
pure derision mixed with hopeless love

well I liked it when I was alive well
friended in spite of my weird attitude
we are all misapprehended somewhat
different to ourselves than others know

We've Arrived

nothing really changes
we go on being who we have become
only more so
looking to stay at home
enjoy the seasons
lie in the bed we've made
and walk the land where we've arrived

A Different Person

you don't want to do it
so find some other way

the thing will be done
somehow events occur

so if in doubt do it
or be sorry you didn't

if you're not in doubt
reconsider your sanity

or do something else
as a different person

Nice Times

nice to think of you I hope
you're well wellness is key

nice to see all your pictures
food people makes me sad

nice times go by so quickly
wellness slips fall arrives

nice knowing you I wonder
how long we will be well

Same Self

I could be in the speakeasy
drinking a good single malt
with a friendly willing woman
instead I am here with figs
why am I here where I am
why is anyone anywhere
but because of who they are
place is a key part of person
forming as we move about
I would not be my same self
if I were there and not here

Report

I itch all over
but only when I scratch

Warm Enough

that we forget everything
our pictures mean nothing
how we behaved that day
among myriad all distinct
any unbearable moments
end as night always ends

who will be remembered
for the one thing they did
a play or two a mad action
the child himself forgotten
coincidence with odd fate
remembering little valued

so the moment must suffice
appreciated while occurring
valued as part of a pattern
rhythmically coherent cool
and warm enough exactly
what was wanted all along

Options

a lack of options should never force acceptance of
what you know is wrong
what you would do instead is not do what they do
not doing is not an option
that does not mean you should accept whatever is
when you know it is wrong
what is obvious to you may be anathema to others
just as sure they are right
instead you will create something no one imagined
it spontaneously arises
everything happening everywhere at the same time

Fresh Thinking

dizzy just remembering the past
the present enough to deal with
this interlude before the next one
clears a space for fresh thinking

immediate existence ever denser
humming whistling sparkling an
inside texture thick and spinning
while I sit quite still in my chair

wandering through a busy world
I want to be where I am not move
go nowhere I haven't been before
till nothing remains of it but this

Tiny Tasks

the fact is art takes time
time takes doing to fill
will this do? tiny tasks
add up to small success

no time for big ambition
except precise refined
meaning pure as music
never a mistaken word

this is too much a time
stolen from non-being
squeezed into stanzas
beautiful Italian rooms

Natural Order

word precedes thought as existence precedes essence
words cluster into meaning each bringing its sound
sounds follow in their natural order becoming music
rhythm precedes music as the words clap and shout
heartbeat breath seasons and celestial orbits in sync
comprise a universal harmony and precede the word

What Else

this is not quite my wit's end
though I'm weary of my hands'
affliction don't know what to do

the dermatologist (an Indian)
exhausts the use of cortisone
has nothing else to offer

the allergist is booked solid
appointment three weeks out
my condition getting worse

burning palms thickened skin
cracks rash spots up and down
my arms and legs itch all over

something has to be done
but what? I don't see doctors
I talk to their office staff

something must be causing it
I've stopped swimming what
else do I need to give up

Mysterious Patterns

these documents I leave against my utter nonexistence
hoping someone will read them and taste my curiosity
about the mysterious patterns that constitute awareness
how curious this perfectly ordinary moment actually is
the night behind me with its turnings squirmings itches
picturesque suggestive dreams and subtleties of warmth
this day's evolved protocol begun as ordinarily despite
unusual variations in the situation and what I have to do
thinking it's always like this old and never fully known

All Good

the assumption is that the world is getting better
problems solved lives improved until it's all good
instead it is getting worse
why go on

I'm Fine

first I'm cold
then I'm hot
now it's raining
what is this
wobbling stasis

something hurts
then I'm fine
for a while
I might be getting sick
but I don't
then something else

keep working
and loving
balancing
on a thread
that is eternal

Chosen Lives

time doing us favors passing
weather conventions changing
seasons slipping slightly fast

if it didn't would we be better
no way we'd keep it up forever
bored impatient rarely in sync

we cherish our illusory control
step aside from historic events
acting the drama of chosen lives

the idea constantly falling past
I am frozen watch it disappear
unable to follow it into the dark

Who Wins

movie or dream cock
crowing on the soundtrack
disenables present memory
where was I what happened

sense impressions are not
the world they represent in
jeweled detail all we know
is how the body interacts

day has already unfolded
impingements balancing
radiations of inner being
given to the near and dear

surprises are the bottom line
who wins less apposite than
what happens in between
and how you feel about it

As Is

plainly myself
no collar to distract or frame or spin
a weathered barn
suggestive context
though I am not a farm poet
present myself unadorned
as is will do
looking at you

No Choice

all kinds of things going on in my head
yours too probably everybody who has
peace enough to parse the noise chaotic
inputs all at once multiple media other
people our own bodies before we get to
content anything you can think about is
critical wrong decisions come to roost
meanwhile attend to what's to be done
deploy enough time and energy to do it
you can you know you have no choice

New Reality

times have changed in so many ways
it's impossible to say what's normal
the very idea is obsolete outré unhip
absorbed in the new reality can't see
can't believe our eyes Donald Trump
the latest crazy symptom in your face
glue long gone everything falls apart
what we knew true no longer applies

Literal Action

the pieces fit together
like people in places
you never expected
or who knew whom
when we were young

discoveries emerged
lives exist as paper
documents of selves
beyond literal action
true hearts remember

someone else takes it
up or on enough seen
to identify the actors
if anyone really cares
he escapes into silence

Outside Drain

anything you speak of I have something to say
cooking has its history like our relationships
which in a way are surprisingly similar though
the individuals are completely different for
example I know a garlic farmer outside Drain
where you once worked for a doctor I forget
his name don't mention my friend's or that
whole other story we didn't even bring up

Thoughts of Buddha

everything is so well arranged you think
nothing can go wrong for you or anyone
but it can and will can you surmount it
I know you will unless it's really tragic
everything you depend on can be lost
will thoughts of Buddha help you then

Being Here

nothing beats actually being here
with someone or on your own or
ideally both with and you yourself

it has to be a place you want to be
doing what you like love and work
and healthy is that asking too much

you must get out of your own way
if that's a problem solve it grow up
get over whatever you blame it on

unless you are caught in a system
war poverty or criminal injustice
and suffer for nothing you can do

if I could I would set you free to
live love struggle make mistakes
find a way to be wherever you are

A Gavotte

there's no content it's a dance
not a song don't expect story
although kissing is involved
according to certain scholars
that's story enough I propose
to inspire its exquisite form

Added Value

eleven-eleven and all's well
except for my itching hands
in this particular lucky place

I can speak only for myself
my experience typical only
of my particular lucky class

made what of my unearned
advantages an added value
from diversity of interests

Real Rain

talking to the weather
that was thrilling I wish
you'd go on doing it for a while
first real rain in months
changes more than the season
which will probably revert
why go anywhere everything
happening right here at home

Knew Better

by the time you figure out how to be
you're old it's too late even Marlon's
life a downer better to tell it backward
is how we become our glorious selves
beautiful active manifesting our ideas
knew better than we know that was it

No Wonder

farm skills won't save capital managers
hooked on money it's part of the game
everybody in winners take all bets off
New York capital luxury consumption
no wonder we fled we played our hand
saved our hides books paintings paper
feed horses chickens make applesauce