TRANSBIOHOMOHETEROSEXUAL©
HEALTH REPORT
who would imagine a dressing
of garlic and cinnamon
soy sauce and vinegar
don't forget the virgin olive oil packed in Italy
it sounds so democratic
freedom of consumption
for a salad with lettuce, carrots, mushrooms and cucumber
it will not fit very well in a data base
and neither will visiting crows
ambassadors of a vanishing domain
in dwindling skies
with their clap board rhythm
or in barns with visionary lofts
tumble weeds that will reoccupy cities
waterfalls along Calabazas Creek
burbling concrete
lightning in overcrowded clouds
that will penetrate the living
now overpopulating
in overcrowded cities
where shoppers price organic immortality
immunity from terminal bankruptcy
attended with unnecessary treatments
so
that being said
a little raw garlic is good for the soul
and though eschewed by gourmet chefs
it is also good for one's health
who can argue with that?
WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY
maybe October is here
November is still in conference
envoys to arrive daily with hasty news
have a cashew nut?
let's discuss the pending battle
our heavy highs will meet your passionate lows
on the field of radar screens
will you surrender peacefully, with cities left intact?
or will Geico geckos annihilate Budweiser frogs?
it is a question fraught with taxing implications
Amazon.com has gone to war for freedom
Apple.com has replied with a flanking maneuver
and slowly, slowly redoubts are washed away
in hurricanes of historic proportion
prosperity, piffle, poof!
I stand before you, ladies and gentlemen
a transbiohomoheterosexual being
tentacles flying over dying corral reefs
reefer madness gone berserk
playing masterpiece theater
with a toy train, boiler plate and engineer's cab
in radioactive hue
strange dove
strange fruit, Alabama
New York 9/11 gateway
let us recall the séances of old English sincerity
German mythological abstractions
Guernica scraping Monet, Strauss and Pollack
off a grand piano
Van Gogh the outlier
oh, not in some Christian or Confucian palace
where Steuben stubbed a toe
but Antiques Road Show - - -
Tiffany!
a wealth of memories burnished in banshee gold
porch lights dimmed in mourning
our navy will meet your flat bottomed boats
morals will walk on water
though completely unsupported by weather reports
which turn out to be wrong
though upheld politically
with great ideas
"all men are created equal"
one last word before it's over
sit quietly:
EVERYTHINGNESS
trying the impossible
and perhaps not very interesting to say:
ever increasing traffic
strange weather
but also
since it's warmer now in November
leaves don't drop as fast
it doesn't seem to matter
what matters can't be measured, much less described
in fact I don't understand it
muscular tensions of a lifetime are gradually disappearing
tragic situations are not forgotten
yet lose their grip
no countervailing strategies to smolder time
the spinning wheels decelerate
there is no answer in daily sitting
there is no there there
no handle
nothing
absolutely nothing
CLEAR AIR
alkies, dopers, snorters, believers, meditators
may agree:
life is suffering
the only question being:
how to rise above the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
something else:
it doesn't matter
alter the mind and so?
sooner or later all ways come to an end
is it comforting to become compost?
ashes are not forever
drink, smoke, sit, snort, bow, flagellate
it's a big hospital
a house with many mansions
a dream with no beginning or end
go quietly or not
what about the socks in your drawer
what if a mismatched pair
is the sky watching
life is complicated
and the birds in ourtree
are enjoying life without permission
DRUMMERS
time does not exist
days and night pass like clockwork
hearts pump rhythmically
music has a beat
lives and lifetimes have their cadence
electrons orbit molecules
ripples passing through an infinite pond
which has come to rest in its depth
its surface for commerce or warships or vacations
movements measured by traders, generals and families
motion is an illusion
here and there are everywhere
now, then and next
marks on a continuous plane
my calender is a cartoon
leaves fall at a certain timeevery year
sadness penetrates spring
family members are not new, or friends, or enemies, Tabitha and Rosie, neighbors, all wives within or out of memory, chieftains, warriors, crows that visit again, clouds, rivers, comrade gardeners, twitter bits and white small butterflies
in the front yard
the moon waxes eloquent
hanging like a bead curtain that defines a certain space
the grand curtain of time is a red carpet that scoffs at my feet
each step falling exactly here
