So, the tear chimps snip.....

"River City, reversity"  Florence she states.

All the while, on the Nile--- she rises, then waits

guarantees me, those surprises

woe to he who analyses.

I was edified,

by percussion

infarctions? Shalom.

Mendicant pavarrotti

flatulent hottie.

Indecisive, unrevised

wherever you may roam.

Please

Greetings, the weather is lovely

the flora diverse

the river where the grass is greener

the sun set to verse

over the hill.

I didn't know it works that way

I guess I never will.

I try to fix the way I am

acquire extra strengths

those weaknesses

are dug in though

I go to extra lengths

I went to the poet lariat

I wanted to show him some of my stuff

He was polite and read.

He pursed his lips

wrinkled his forehead.

He said, "I can't tell if this is poetry,

or dyslexia."

The assurance company

say's get a second opinion.

It was diagnosed.

It turned out to be

partly poetry.

Yuppie Pilgrimage;

the yuppie sat, late one night

dining on Brie, way uptight

watching Bravo on Trinitron

Werner Fassbinder, Henry Wong

lo and behold,

his TV speaks

"Don't you watch dat stuff on me.

You life has no meaning.

my resolution is inferior.."

"I was looking for something that would offend

every body."

Yuppie gets out L.L. Bean.

buys all essentials he will need

a yuppie pilgrimage

in Harris tweed..

booked a suite out at the Breakers,

watches fishing picture takers

just before dawn

and on and on

at the ocean's edge

European drawn.

"I must transfer to the Old World.

America is a feudal state.

I must leave before it's too late."

Autobahn, gestatten, perfection?

Too late.

This part time buffoon

archaic, will soon

burst into the void like a bubble

up the creek with a pall

since logic will al...ways

leave you without a paddle

I see the sun rise everyday.

I work with people who do not give a fig

what I think.

Bunches of humility

clearings and splotches of it.

What I have been only comes to me in dreams now.

Oh, and of course when I am driving north.

I am no longer connected with my youth.

There, poetry fan;

has been a cold, hard freeze,

on the land this month.

seventeen inches of snow

Slats and I sit on the first warm day of February

"Do you know we own the river?

I can say this to you, because I know you

and all of this

(he sweeps his hand in a gesture

horizon to horizon

leaves to burning gas balls in the sky)

are just a figment of  my imagination."

I view the river differently now

knowing that it and I

are just figments.

Truculence, and buckslip 64

My mind was like a crow- picking at shiny objects

you wanted me to be intense

for all of the the wrong reasons

I'm no good at sitting on the fence

so, if it isn't pleasing,

I'll start thinking with my heart

instead of just my head

I won't use that smaller part

I've been using instead

let's get to what's important here

let's cut to the chase, and seal

what's covered with nuance

the wheels are spinning,

raconteurs, chisel heeled

will further spiel

petti tours and glamour

I just want the real deal

I'd rather dangle  from a precipice

than a participle

I'd rather be a subdued subdude.

start an ode to hydrocephalic love

in a further state

diet pills

tremors and chills

and speeding to unrequited love.

In Texas dumpster

Fancho the rummager

finds a lost poem

about Texas skies

Santa Anna and slackers

the evening star trackers

Llano Estacado

travois rides, take you

wherever they are

on, and through spirit graveyards

Orion looks down

cold in December

far from the town

he finishes the bottle

he climbs up on top

the chill ends

and warmly

he sleeps

without stop

The Deadwood Vampire, Ranemoff

say's,  "This ain't no picnic

ain't no puptent

if I've got to do

your thinking for you

you'll be my servant

a Sluggo production

will not circumvent.

Dread Sergeant

relieve me

report to my tent."

He sat down behind his desk

"Does this amuse you, Amigo?

When the darkness comes and I have to break through

a gringo fling at dawn."

you say, " I ride that Shanghai river

the troops have mutinied, wow!

Brave Captain he spat out his teeth

bouncing off the bow."

When my self esteem gets real low

I write poetry

I have to be damn near suicidal

to write poetry

She took my silence as an affront

if I had been capable of smiling all the time like a village idiot

she would not be threatened

by my silence

it seems, in repose

my face must lapse

into something that resembles a snarl

I used a beveled tie winder

I don't expectorate at home

there's no exotic range finder

infatuated gnome

slow dancing in hydro

in vitro

alone

with your shoes out the window,

lips on your ear

sarcasm becomes you,

it engulfs you, my dear.

By the third time you should be downright ecstatic

sit tight in overdrive

use your lap for a throne.

slow dancing in hydromatic

watch out for that curve

stationary, cautioned, wary

watch out for that missionary

position, you're prone to

exacerbation.

In the background you'll hear the whirring

of hidden tape machines

above your head, in a caption

a light bulb will light

blissfully sleep

young Midwest wallaby

nestled in your culvert

under the over pass

on I-80 mile marker 475

unconcerned with covert actions

hanging with pot bellied factions

satisfied, at peace with the coyotes

of the median strip

It went beyond visuals, really.

There was a slight, Bi-collodial tramp

ingesting ticket stumps.

At the door.

Quite the seamless Arts custodian.

Relentlessly tracking down wisps of the outdoors.

tracked in inadvertently

Bi-customers.

"It was the heat

and picnic food,

made me do it." She said.

I had an odd

yet obvious, phrase

I wanted to toss off

to you Reno, upon my word

it was meant

to help you capitulate.

"Because I like your Imagination, kid.,

Do you remember things we ever did,

upon the brook upon the dock

on bicycles around the block

in Parks exploded #2

Dipers raced, rocked and curse words through

I wished you were a little girl.

and not an Elemeno boy

who used to be

my greatest joy.

I start very early in the morning,

I parallel an old man arriving at his cabin.

His was a long life on the streets.

Busting Bunzola's.

Looking due north that night

He cited the Volstead Act

struggled through a seven year existence, alone

the family farms were all gone.

What am I doing in this town, Tom?"

Corporate Land, diversity too

Free coffee on Wednesday,

how can you beat that?

The sky is out of a Chinese watercolor

fresh, new, this morning

the river making it's bend south towards the airport

is socked in with cold gray autumn shapes

above the bluffs

and right in front of you eyes.

He asked,  "Are you still a nimrod, Tom?"

Milo says, " Now, is that right?

did that happen just then?"

"Of course it did., F--k chronological order.

This is a story. Working title, Catbird seat,

"I wanted a home, way, way, out

on the backside of the Great Divide

no cul de sac, no double wide

no picket fence Cosmo for a guide.

cabin on creek bottom

trail of lonesome pine

no neighbors close no time to lose

no city limits sign."

Out in front of you

Morbius your crooked tongue

protruding, facing the highway

they did not miss the implication

of One Eyed Joe.

"You did not get a ride, through all a cold and misty day."

from where I sit, she would say

I ought get up and walk away

I said honey I can live with that

long as you're by my side

In my dreams when the night winds blow

out on the great divide.

I had a monster movie dream last night

if I could remember it

well enough to tell it

tight enough to sell it

well enough to set it out

it would be

top notch

pulp fiction

extravaganja

but the morning light stole the plot.

for a while there

I was a firm believer in the supernatural

plugged in to the same dream

she lay in an orphan bed

far above my head

still in touch across miles

mind the stars

mind the files

like making plans

like vital signs

like a last shred of love

like it's crying time

never going to move

never going to care

about what still remains

about what you could spare

I will never give it back

I paid too much

for merchandise,

as such,

is cracked.

Brought in beans and webhocks

diabolic steroids

mix, knock,

a bun in the oven

from another man

too much Volare

"Why you had it annulled?"

take the time to find

what a woman needs to hear

so when I fall from grace

tumbling deep

slowly rising from the depths

through charts and shoals

reefs, as the sand runs

I breech

then wade

so easily

I could have waded

with trepidation

lagoons located

on higher

ground

concerned with

triviality

saturation.

oh no.

I was covered

in carolina

an ol' crystal fog ditty

remembering those days

when you were a young salamander

holed up in your river bank hideaway

retreat what sleet Athabascan fry

she thinks william blake is pukey

i cannot turn her head in any way

there is a skating rink out on the streets

the trees are skeletal remains of summer everything is a shade of grey

like a b&w photo

that character had to be exorcised

from what i'd written when

we sweated him out

traditionally this great besieged city

here on the plains

would have fallen months ago

thanks to hindsight

i have regained

a sense of purpose

so badly in need

curiosity killed the cat

it keeps us off those beaten paths

work and imagination value both

do not need beyond a doubt

we made feral children, she and i

our mutual hatred flawed them

as we are flawed

i would speak to someone-- good morning

a glare; what's good about it

i assumed it was my anger

i reacted    i am lost

it is yours

keep it

do not try to pass that juju on to me

the sofarians

were being breeched, baby

on the left flank

in glaze, in aspic

in retrospect

I suspect a hidden rhyme

There's a rhyme

for every sentence

there's a glimpse of pure delight

in a moment

take you deeper

on into the ozone, night

just when the sofarians were made

the earth was very young

seeds had just been planted,

everything just done.

away they flew.

there is nothing happening here.

they said., nothing new

light speed then

warps to come.

or through the wormhole,

no one knew

bug that buzzes

bird that flew.

there is something to be said

for being mysterious

keeping the facts straight

for oneself

but curving them for those

whom it would take entirely too long

(if at all)

to field

those skeletal explanations

of substantial beliefs.

the subject will understand briefly

a glimmer

then with gratitude, give up the cognizance

ignorance is truly, bliss

try faith to the faithless

grace to the graceless-

best to mystify.

no one has that much time

attitudes

in these latitudes

still rely on platitudes,

a little dignity

is all one can count on

on this planet,

sometimes harsh

it is all one can expect

on this terrestrial plane

It carries on, you know

dignity and grace

one and the same thing

a postage stamp

for the Maker

an entrance ramp

for the King

The Platitudinally challenged,

will state,

"If all is all

and not enough-

don't pass it to me

I don't buy that stuff."

An Indulgence then

for me and you.

I sent you a note-

around the world it went.

is it the same as the time when

you yelled in my rooms

in the middle of the night you wouldn't behave,

you wouldn't shut up

"Walter!" I sad. Walter Galore.

"Walter I'm waiting.

Walter there's more. "